


Benevolence Series

by PrintDust



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 07:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 64,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrintDust/pseuds/PrintDust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe Hell was rusted rotting pipes- drip, drip, dripping, lying in your own caked blood, and hope just a little out of reach. From the end of 3X04- Killer Within. What if Lori survived? Explores multiple POVs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Lori couldn't stop shivering. The concrete floor she was lying on was cold beneath her and there was something digging into the small of her back. A soft groan escaped her lips and she tried to open her eyes, but when she did the room was blurry, as though she was looking at it through a fish tank. She wondered if she had fallen, but her hand wouldn't co operate when she tried to lift it to inspect her head. Closing her eyes again she tried to focus on the room, her ears straining for any sound. She could hear shuffling somewhere in the distance and dripping from above her. She tried to lift her hand again but it felt stuck, like she had been glued to the floor.

"What the-" her voice sounded scratchy and thick. Opening her eyes again, she squinted at the light filtering through the windows to her right, and then lifted her head slowly to inspect her sticky hand. Her mind worked slowly, trying to wrap itself around what she was seeing.

Blood.

A lot of it. Hers? But why was she bleeding?

Her hip felt tender and she used her other hand to explore the area where the pain was radiating from. Her fingers tingled as they felt around clumsily until she came into contact with the offending object. Giving it a tug she pulled it free from beneath her and lifted it for inspection.

"Carl," she whispered, inspecting her son's knife.

Eyes widening she dropped the knife to her side as shock swept over her. The light shiver coursing through her body intensified, becoming a hard shake. Squeezing her eyes shut she bit her lip against the pain that built steadily, throbbing in her lower abdomen.

The baby.

"Maggie," she whispered, the word trailing off into a deep groan.

Opening her eyes she felt the world drop out from under her and the edges of her vision blurred. Fighting the blackness, she willed herself to stay conscious. Slowly, she peeled her right arm free from the blood that was quickly drying around her. Her left arm was next and she unsteadily positioned them behind her, pushing herself up in the process.

Her heart pumped furiously in her chest as she inspected the incision site. Her abdomen, splayed open, oozed in sync with her beating heart. Horror gripped her as she raked her eyes over her belly, the skin torn jaggedly, pulled back to reveal fatty tissue and her insides.

The world swayed again and she dropped onto her back, panic overwhelming her. She was alive, but she wouldn't be for long. Her breath came quickly and she whimpered at the pain and the cold.

"Please," she whispered, unsure of what she was asking for. "Please," she tried again, the words cut short as a sob escaped her, and then another, and another. "I'm supposed to be dead."

The next time she was aware of anything, it was the feeling of her ears ringing. Something had slammed loudly. Taking a deep breath, Lori opened her eyes and grimaced. The pool of blood had dried further and she fought back a wave of nausea. As disconnected and lightheaded as she felt, she was still aware enough to know that it would do her no good to throw up while she was stuck on her back.

Ears still ringing from a sound she wasn't even sure she had truly heard, she listened hard. The first thing that struck her at the sound of the light scuffle was fear. Squeezing her eyes closed she continued to hold her breath, waiting for the damn thing to pounce on her and eat her alive.

The weight of the Walker hit her side hard and fast. Bony knees collided with her hip, jarring her lower body and she braced herself for the pain of having her already abused abdomen shredded further. She listened to the things ragged breathing and waited, one second, then two, and then three too many.

Finally, she opened her eyes and registered quickly the pale slender face looming over her. The thin woman leapt back, a gasp escaping her lips.

"Shit, you're alive," Carol paled further, her blue eyes darting over Lori's body.

The brunette felt a weak smile curl over her lips, but it was quickly replaced by a grimace. "That d-d-does," her voice shook and she swallowed hard. "Seem to be the unfortunate circumstance."

"Jesus, Lori," Carol moved quickly to her side. "Are you bit? The baby… did Walkers…"

"Abscond with it?" This time Lori let out a light chuckle, but it was a nervous one. "No, Maggie and Carl…"

"Were you bit?" Carol asked, hesitating, letting raised hands linger just above Lori's exposed uterus.

Lori shook her head, hot tears pricking her eyes. "But your hands," she winced both in pain and fear. The other woman's hands, though clearly washed, were stained almost to her elbows. "Who?" Lori finally asked, bracing her hands against the floor, not sure if she was prepared for the answer.

Carol didn't answer right away and Lori's heart skipped a beat before it began to hammer in her chest again.

"Rick?" She asked after a moment, the tears in her eyes finally spilling over and sliding down her cheeks. "Please, God," her throat tightened and the words barely made it around the lump swelling there.

"No, no," Carol shook her head and leaned in, her hand moving forward to cradle Lori's cheek. "T, it was T-Dog," her thumb swept over the trail of tears, drying the other woman's cheek. "We were separated. I haven't seen anyone else," she sat back again.

"I'm sorry," Lori whispered. "I shouldn't be relieved," she reached for Carol's hand but it was quickly pulled out of her reach.

Carol shook her head again. "I need these to be clean," she explained quickly. "And I need help."

Lori's head moved slowly as it moved from side to side. "It's too late, Carol. I can feel it-"

"You are not allowed to talk like that," Carol cut her off, her brows knitting as she turned her attention fully to the task at hand. "We need to keep you warm," she looked around the room and then let out a frustrated sigh, punctuated with a soft damnit. "I don't have anything, Lori." Carol pushed herself to her feet. "I need help."

Nodding, the brunette's lower lip wobbled as she fought back more tears. "Okay," she agreed, resolving herself to bravery. If she had survived this long, she could push through until Carol came back with help. Maybe, if she found Hershel she would actually stand a chance at making it through this. Maybe she would hold her baby and Carl again. She just needed to be brave.

Carol was already halfway up the steps when she looked over for her. The sight of her retreating back sent a shiver down her spine and she looked towards the windows to block it out. Maybe she really was dead, she mused. Maybe this was hell.

Maybe hell was rusted rotting pipes, drip, drip, dripping, lying in your own caked blood, and hope, just a little out of reach.

XXXX

A squeaking door followed by commotion and voices sliced through the silence but Lori didn't have the energy to look over. She had drifted off to a place that felt comfortable. The pain in her abdomen had dulled then vanished, and the cold was gone too. She knew what it meant- that she was dying- but she was beyond concern.

Lori wasn't a doctor; she knew a little first aid and had picked up some tidbits of medical information from pop culture. But despite her limited knowledge, she knew that the body could only withstand so much blood loss before it went into hypovolemic shock.

Her thoughts swayed in another direction, towards the past. The night that Carl had been shot and Hershel had worked so hard to keep him alive until Shane got back. This time, there would be no Shane. There was so magical cure on its way. The few medical supplies that Carl had recovered from the infirmary had long since been used up on Hershel's leg.

Vaguely, she was aware of being touched and she wasn't sure if she liked it or not. The contact tugged her back a little, away from the euphoric calm that had settled over her. She didn't want to go back- to the pain and the fear or to the cold. Her view of the windows was obstructed as someone leaned over her, and then hands were on her face, cradling her cheek, stroking her ear.

A smile began in her heart and warmed its way up to her mouth. She knew those hands. Those hands were gentle, loving, and tender. It occurred to her that it had been so long since she had last felt them, since they had reached out to her. Lori hadn't realized how badly she had longed to feel them again, and she closed her eyes to relish the moment.

Open your eyes, Lori, baby. Hold on.

The extent of that order wasn't lost on her. But somehow she complied and allowed herself to be pulled back, toward him. Her husband's face filled almost her entire field of view, his crystal eyes lit with tears. Tearing her eyes away she glanced slowly around the room, from Glenn, to Carol who had a roll of plastic kitchen wrap in her hands. Hershel stood over her shoulder and he was instructing her, to do what, Lori couldn't understand.

Lori's eyes sought out Carl, wrapped tightly in Beth's arms. She paused on his face and pondered the guilty expression, mixed with relief. His hand shook slightly where it rested on the hammer of his gun. Her own hand twitched and she longed to go to him and wrap him up in her arms and hold him.

…lift you…

Rick was telling her something and her eyes flicked back to his face. He was so close, his breath hot on her cheek. Curiously, she watched his mouth form words that she couldn't hear over the roaring in her ears.

The nod he sent to Carol and Glenn sent her hurtling into agony and a scream tore from her throat. There was something underneath her, pulling, tearing her in half. It only lasted a moment before darkness came. Then there was nothing.

XXXX

Rick watched in horror as Lori screamed in agony before going slack in his arms. Frantically, he looked over at Hershel who calmly watched as Glenn continued to jack-up Lori's body so that Carol could work.

"Hershel?" He asked, looking back down at Lori's face that was void of all colour.

"Check her pulse, Rick," the older man moved closer, his movements awkward and clumsy as he tried to negotiate his stump. Calmly, the older man rested his hand on Lori's chest, feeling the slight stuttering rise and fall. "She is still breathing," he drawled, his voice reassuring. "She probably just passed out from the pain."

Rick's blood stained fingers quickly traced along his wife's jaw line then dipped down until he found the spot to the right of her throat. Applying pressure, he held his breath and waited. The slow but steady pulse against his fingertips eased the pressure building in his chest. She was still alive, barely, but it was something. "I can feel it," Rick reluctantly pulled his fingers away. He sighed in relief and moved his hand over Lori's brow, pushing her hair back.

"Okay, Carol," Hershel spoke up, putting a hand on the slender woman's shoulder. "Wrap it tightly, so we can move her upstairs. Beth and Carl, I need you to have a room clear and ready for when we get there."

The two youngest members of the group wordlessly started up the stairs, Beth's arm still secured around Carl's shoulders. "Daryl, make sure they get there safely. We don't want any more crisis before we're done dealing with this one."

Daryl nodded in agreement. "And then I'm goin' on a run. Can't do much without any medical supplies and the baby's gonna need food. A buck ain't gonna do her much good and looks like her mama ain't either. Not for a while."

Looking up, Rick offered his wingman a grateful nod. "Take someone with you," he suggested. "Like Hershel said, we don't need another crisis," his eyes swept Lori's features again. When no one moved or said anything he looked up.

Carol was focused on wrapping Lori's abdomen, creating a plastic layer of skin that would hold her together while they moved her upstairs. Glenn watched her work, clearly avoiding meeting Rick's eyes.

"No hands left," Daryl spoke softly. "Maggie's with the baby. Glenn," he thrust his chin in the Asian's direction. "And T…"

"You're right," Rick smoothed Lori's cheek. "It will have to be me then," he conceded, pressing a kiss to his wife's forehead. He tried to ignore how cold and clammy it felt under his lips.

Daryl scoffed. "You stupid? Your place is here now," he said gruffly. "I'll be fine on my own. Just keep it so the trip ain't a waste of my time." With a last look he adjusted his crossbow on his shoulder and left, slamming the door behind him.

"What do we do now?" Carol asked, inspecting the plastic wrap for leaks. It seemed to be doing its job containing any further bleeding and had accomplished in pulling Lori's incision together concealing the majority of the damage to her uterus.

"We need to get her upstairs," Hershel informed them, using Carol's shoulder to get up. Wordlessly, Glenn got to his feet and stepped over Lori and helped the older man rise. "I need to tie off her uterus, or she'll just keep bleeding internally. Maggie will know what I need; maybe there is something left in the infirmary."

"She can't go alone," Glenn asserted. "This place is still crawling with Walkers. I'll go with her."

Rick looked away from the exchange back down to Lori. "You're going to be okay," he whispered, checking her pulse again. He kept his fingers on her pulse point and took her hand. "I'll carry her."

"I'm a crap shot," Glenn kneeled down on the other side of Lori's head. "You should cover us, I'll carry her," he offered, already sliding his arms under the unconscious woman's knees and shoulders. Slowly, he got to his feet, adjusting Lori in his arms.

Rick maintained his grip on his wife's hand and rose with her. He pressed a kiss to her fingers before laying her hand across her ribcage, and then positioned her head onto Glenn's shoulder. I love you… please don't die.


	2. Chapter Two

"Why is she crying?" Carl asked as he jogged along beside Daryl, both his hands wrapped securely around his gun.

Daryl grunted in reply, putting his hand out on her shoulder to silently stop Beth from moving forward. He kept his voice low when he spoke. "Prob'ly hungry." Stealthily, he peeked around the corner towards the door that would take them into their cellblock. A mass of Walkers clawed at the door and each other in an attempt to get in. "Shit," he cursed. "And drawin' more attention than we need," he mused, not amused at all. "Maggie best shut'er up or she's gonna have the whole damn prison on us."

"She's a newborn…" Beth piped in, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. She shrugged shyly when Daryl shot her an impatient look. "I'm just sayin'… Maggie's probably doing the best she can."

"I count fourteen," Carl looked to Daryl and then checked the clip in his gun. "I've only got three rounds left."

Daryl didn't look at the boy. He'd assumed the kid was out of ammo, on account of how he'd failed to take care of his business in the basement. If they'd been any less lucky- which still remained to be seen- they'd have another Walker to deal with. Daryl didn't envy the kid's position, but he didn't have too many excuses for it either. Shit needed to get done, and they needed people to do it. He and Rick couldn't make all the hard calls.

"If they're attracted to the sound of the baby, doesn't that mean that they are all here?" Beth asked, her eyes sweeping the hall behind them.

"So?" Daryl muttered, pulling his knife out of his pocket. He only had a couple arrows left, they were gonna have to go hand to hand.

Carl's face lit up. "That means this is all that's left. So they aren't lurking in the halls anymore. We can go find some weapons… some pipes, a fire axe or something. They're kind of crowded over there, not much room to move. We could take them out."

"Yeah, if we had Rick and Maggie- people who know what the hell they're doing," Daryl looked at the two kids. Beth could barely swing a hammer and hit a nail on the head, never mind fend of an advancing walker while taking out another. And Carl was a little better but not much. He was fine behind a gun, but he didn't have much height to him, yet. Not to mention that he scared easy. "Nah, we're gonna have to find another way in. Pick these Walkers off after we've had a chance to regroup."

"We could try going around through the other entrance. I know the way," Carl had already taken Beth's hand and was pulling her back towards the boiler room.

With one last glance over his shoulder, Daryl nodded and followed. "We can take 'em out through the bars," he agreed. "Can't swarm us that way."

The trio carried on without speaking, Carl leading the way, one hand still wrapped securely around Beth's. He kept his gun pointed ahead of him as he checked each corner and hallway before moving forward. Daryl watched the boy's movements, the stock of his crossbow snug against his own shoulder, his finger resting on the trigger. He'd need to backtrack and collect arrows before heading out to find baby formula and medical supplies.

As they approached the steel door- the only thing separating them from their destination, Carl halted. "Walker," he whispered, looking behind him.

"Looks like just the one," Daryl stepped between the two kids, breaking their hands apart. "I got this," he said, handing his crossbow to Beth who fumbled as she took it. He pulled out his hunting knife in one motion and moved quietly along the wall, listening for the sounds of any other bastards that could be lurking in the shadows. Careful not to make a sound he was less than three feet away from the dead prisoner when it became aware of his presence. It was already too late for it to react, though, because Daryl had already plunged the knife into the base of its skull. He felt the bone pop and then crunch as it gave way to his blade and then the tacky splash of decaying blood as it sprayed back over his hand. He yanked his blade free and pushed the corpse forward with a satisfying thud.

"Let's go," he said over his shoulder and pushed his way into the first set of doors leading to C-Block. Using his bloody fist he banged on the door. "Maggie, open up."

The door was yanked open in a matter of seconds and Carl, Daryl, and Beth filed in. Carl, who was the last one, pushed the door shut again and locked it. The small group stood without saying anything, surrounded by the sound of growling, wheezing Walkers, and a wailing infant.

XXXX

Maggie was the first to speak. "Is she d-…" her eyes sliced sideways to look at Carl. The pre-teen looked away ashamed, his freckles standing out against his pale features. "Alive?" She finished, rubbing the tiny baby girl's back, trying to soothe her cries.

"Last we saw, yeah, barely," Daryl took his crossbow from Beth and set it on the floor before stalking away. "Check T-Dog's cell, Carl," he ordered, picking up a makeshift spear that had been discarded next to Rick's mattress on the floor. "See if you can find that sharpened pipe o' his. 'l do just fine for this."

Maggie looked up from the red-faced infant whose wails shook her entire tiny body. "You're going to take them out through the gate?" She asked, following Daryl with Beth on her heels.

When the redneck didn't answer her she looked to Carl who was coming down the stairs from the upper cells, a pipe and another spear in hand. "Here," Maggie turned to Beth and held out the baby.

Her little sister took a step back, putting up her hands defensively. "No way," she shook her head, blue eyes wide.

"Beth, take her. Just support her head and rock her, you'll do fine." Without giving the blonde a chance to object further, Maggie pushed the baby into her arms. Beth's arms automatically adjusted to support the newborn, one hand securing itself under her bum and the other moving to the back of her head. "See? You're a natural," Maggie assured her, taking the spear from Carl. "Just bounce her real light and rock."

"She's still crying," Beth complained as her pretty features twisted in an anxious expression.

Maggie shrugged one shoulder and moved with Carl towards the gate where Daryl was already taking out Walkers. "Tell me about it."

It felt good to drive the metal rod through the first Walker's head. She grunted in satisfaction as she struck brain and then again when she pulled the spike out, ramming its head into the bars in the process. Crying babies were not her thing. She felt bad for the poor little thing, but she felt equally burdened by it. She mentally crossed her fingers that Lori would pull through this and take up responsibility for the baby that she had brought into the world.

As she delivered a blow to the next Walker she thought back to the Farm when she had tossed the Morning After pills in Lori's face. She wondered briefly if her actions had played a part in Lori deciding to keep the baby. Maybe she had unintentionally played a hand in the other woman's death. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of another satisfying CRUNCH as a prison guard's skull caved in under the pressure of her weapon.

Probable death, Maggie reminded herself. Carl had lied to her.

The boy called dibs on the last Walker and she watched as he jammed his weapon under its jaw and then, with a final thrust that held surprising power, pushed it up through its brain. A small smile played across the Carl's face and he looked to Daryl for what Maggie assumed was approval. But the man didn't even cast a second look at him as he surveyed the carnage before them.

"We'll have to clean this up to make room for the others when they come," he turned around. "I gotta go. You guys take care o' it. Stack 'em on the side for now. We'll deal with it later. Don't go outside. Who knows what's out there."

"Where are you going?" Maggie asked, retrieving the keys from the stairs. She handed them to Carl who took the heavy ring in his hands then jogged back over to the doors.

"We need medical stuff and Hershel said the baby's gotta eat. Need'ta find a hospital or something, or a store," he said, his tone belying his impatience with the conversation. He didn't wait for her to say anything else before picking up his crossbow and pocketing his hunting knife. He passed Carl on his way out and gave the boy a soft but solid punch to the shoulder. "Better put somethin' on that baby's ass before it shits everywhere," he said, slamming the door behind him.

XXXX

Rick led the tiny group down the hall, alert and ready to defend against an ambush. He listened to the sound of Lori's strained and shallow breaths and the punctuating click of Hershel's crutches. They reached C-Block without incident and Rick tapped on the door with his foot. He heard scuffling on the other side, then the rattling of keys. The door opened and his son stepped back, holding it with his arm. "The one next to Hershel's," he told them, casting a nervous look towards his mother. "Dad?"

Carl looked to him and Rick folded his son into a quick hug. In that moment he realized how long it had been since he had last held his boy and he was surprised by how much Carl had grown. Long gone were spindly limbs and slender shoulders. They had been replaced by the body of a young man, thicker and more solid. Rick's hands rested on those shoulders now and he pushed his son back to look at him, stooping a little to meet Carl's eyes. "She's alive. Glenn and Maggie are going back to the infirmary, in case there is anything left."

Glenn quirked a small smile in the boy's direction before passing through the doors, Lori still draped in his arms. Rick left Carl to lock them in again and followed Glenn, Carol, and Hershel into the cell. He stood back and watched as Lori was laid carefully onto the bottom bunk, where Carol quickly moved into place to tend to her, her hands working quickly but gently over the plastic wrap.

"Do you know her blood type?" Hershel asked. "It would be best if we could transfuse her," he said, taking a seat next to the bed.

Guilt sent a pang through his chest and Rick shook his head. "No, I don't know…" He looked to the woman who he had been married to for over a decade. She was so pale, like porcelain, her face wane and waxy. He wondered how the hell she could be alive when she looked so close to death. He moved forward and kneeled at the end of the bed, watching the shallow rise and fall of her chest, and he closed one hand around her ankle. He felt rocked by fear, and he knew that there was a very good chance that she wouldn't survive this, but part of him couldn't fathom that she wouldn't. How could there be a time when he wouldn't hear her voice anymore, or see her smile. Have her arms slide around him from behind as she whispered into his ear. The mere thought of never again knowing that feeling made him feel so alone and isolated, like no one would ever be able to reach him again.

The first sob that broke free from his chest was barely a whimper. The second came in a rush of air, his throat like a fist.

Oh God.

As his insides crumbled his exterior followed suit and his body folded in on itself until his upper body was lying across her legs.

Please.

He was vaguely aware of the sound of Hershel speaking softly with Maggie and Glenn. Turning his face into Lori's shins, he blocked out the sound of their voices. He needed time to pull himself together and he needed solitude to do it. It seemed that his energy reserves had depleted so rapidly over the course of the last few hours. He felt like the generator tanks back at the CDC- running on fumes. He was counting down to an explosion that would surely take them all down with him.

The young couple was gone by the time he had pulled himself together enough to sit up, wiping one hand over his face. Carol had placed a pillow under Lori's head and was draping a blanket over her. "Will she wake up?" Rick asked, knee-walking around the bed to take his wife's hand.

"There's no way to tell," Hershel answered.

"If she does, she'll be in pain," Rick smoothed one hand over Lori's clammy cheek, pushing her hair back. When she didn't respond, her stillness served to deepen his fear, nearly jackknifing him again. He left one hand to linger on her cheek and then closed the other one around hers; his finger's brushed her wedding band in the process. Hershel didn't have a chance to answer before Beth came to the door.

"Rick?" The young woman looked up at him, tears shining in her eyes blue eyes. "She won't stop crying, and I don't know what to do," her voice broke and she looked at him ashamed, holding the newborn to her chest.

He felt his body tense at the sight of the squirming pink baby and he looked back down at Lori. He felt anger lick through him like flames but it extinguished quickly. Lori would not want him to blame anyone, least of all the one who was the most innocent among them. He released his hold on his wife's hand and turned to Beth who stepped forward and laid the baby in the makeshift cradle of his open arms. The young woman hesitated for a moment and then retreated quickly, her shoulders slumped.

"Beth, I need to speak with you," Hershel called after her. Obediently, Beth turned around and came back to help her father rise.

When he was alone, Rick turned his attention to the tiny girl in his arms and felt his heart racing.

Beautiful.

She looked just like her mother. Her eyes were squeezed shut so he couldn't see them, but he hoped that she had inherited her mother's earthy tones. The soft wisps of hair were soft and thin, barely concealing any part of her scalp. She had been washed and he would have to thank the Greene daughters for that later. Rick watched her tiny fists flail helplessly, colliding with her button nose as she raged at the world. His heart clenched and he closed one hand around hers to still her assault on herself. It had been so long since he had held anything so fragile- since he had felt his hands shaking in concentration as he tried to be impossibly gentle.

Shhhhh.

He bounced her lightly and curled her into his chest, the new position muffling her wails. The bouncing turned to a sway, his body rocking back and forth as he found her rhythm, like both he and Lori had done with Carl for hours on end thirteen years before. Back then Carl had been colicky and inconsolable. The baby in his arms now, though, quieted, her cries softening to a gentle mew. "That's right," he whispered, kissing her downy head.

Daddy's here.

XXXX

His chopper pounded underneath him and Daryl relished in the fresh air. He kept vigilant, watching carefully for the herd that he knew had been moving through the area. He figured he would scout east first, since the group hadn't picked through there yet. Then he would head back south, toward the farm. If all else failed he knew they had abandoned medical supplies there that last night. He pushed the throttle, knowing that he was on a time limit. The baby would only live so long without food, and Lori- well Lori probably wouldn't live at all no matter what they did, the way she was bleedin'. Like a stuck pig in a slaughterhouse. He was surprised she had any blood left in her at all.

Pushing the image out of his head, he pressed on, swerving around the debris that had been left scattered across the highway.

He slowed at the traffic snarl ahead and pulled to a stop, using one leg to brace his bike. He'd have to drive up the shoulder, which would leave him pretty exposed to the woods that lined the road. He turned his bike and moved slowly around a minivan and then cut back across to weave between another two vehicles. He hoped it wouldn't be so tight all the way up or he would never get back in time.

The process was slow but successful. Daryl had managed to collect several bottles of antibiotics and a partial first aid kit. Pausing next to one car he peered in the window before smashing it. The smell of death and puke wafted out and he leaned back to take a breath and then popped the lock. The door groaned as it swung back on rusty hinges. Pursing his lips he inspected the thing that had drawn his attention, a baby seat. The baby inside it had been dead for a long time and was mostly decomposed, its skin blackened and sliding away from its frame, exposing pearly skeleton.

Turning away from the corpse he looked around the car cab until he spotted what he was looking for and picked it up. Opening the soft yellow bag he pulled out a handful of diapers to look at the other items. He found a can of powdered formula that was almost empty and some clothes. The little pink dress and hat seemed pretty small to Daryl, but so did Lori's baby so he figured it would work. Lori would like it, he thought, and stuffed it back into the bag. The car didn't have much else that seemed useful to him, and against his better judgment he picked up a yellow stuffed duck from the floor of the car. The thing would probably be a waste of space and he considered tossing it back into the seat with the rotting baby, but then stopped.

Sophia had carried that stupid doll of hers around everywhere she went, clutched in her long thin arms.

Jesus Christ, he cursed, stuffing the damn duck into the bag and taking it with him.

The sun was dropping behind the tops of the trees and Daryl had given up on speed. The highway was too densely packed with debris and abandoned vehicles, and the mess stretched out for as far as he could see in both directions. He had abandoned his bike further back and was picking along on foot. He'd taken to leaving empty water bottles as markers on the roofs of the cars that he wanted to loot on the way back. He was considering turning around when something caught his eye further up.

The fading sunlight glinted on orange reflectors and Daryl picked up his pace. The ambulance sat half-assed in the ditch on the side of the road. The cab rocked back and forth as Daryl approached it and he raised his crossbow. He reached up and gave the back window a heavy smack with his palm then took a step back as something smashed hard against the inside.

Moving on the balls of his feet Daryl flicked the handle then leapt back as the doors burst open, smashing against their hinges. The first Walker went down easy as an arrow sailed smoothly through the spot between its eyes. The second and third advanced slowly on him slowly, stumbling down from the back of the ambulance. Daryl barely had time to reload before they were on him. He took out what used to be an EMT with another arrow before discarding his crossbow and pulling out his knife. The second EMT snarled, missing Daryl's hand by a minner's peter with its teeth.

"Come on, you son of a bitch," Daryl muttered, avoiding the things curled, lashing fingers. He kicked out, his foot colliding with the Walker's knee, satisfied as the bone split under the pressure. The Walker went down, its leg barely held together, though it seemed unfazed as it continued to reach for him. At his new vantage point, Daryl drove his knife into the crown of its head and it immediately went slack, gravity pulling it downwards until it slid off the end of his blade.

The road was silent again and Daryl looked around to make sure that he hadn't attracted any unwanted attention. Seeing that he was alone, he picked up his crossbow and looked over his new ride.


	3. Chapter 3

Maggie's hand was tucked into Glenn's as they walked to the infirmary. They hadn't come across any Walkers so far and she was grateful. The halls were still splashed with both fresh crimson and rusty aged blood. She felt bone weary and wanted nothing more than to curl up into her and Glenn's squeaky bunk and sleep. Unfortunately, there was still a lot that needed to be done. They needed to go to the infirmary and then swing back towards the cafeteria. Glenn had recalled seeing some powdered milk there and suggested that it might do for the baby.

Maggie could feel his eyes on her as they walked. He tried to be subtle about it, but she knew that he was watching her. She also knew that he wanted to talk, but for the life of her, she couldn't think of a single thing to say to him.

When he tugged on her hand in a gesture to stop her forward momentum she shook her head. "Daddy said if he doesn't stitch Lori up soon it will be too late. The chance of infection will be too high."

Glenn masked his disappointment at her rejection well, but she could see it in his eyes and brisk nod.

"We'll- I'll talk later," she finally said, stopping outside of the infirmary doors. The window had been smashed so it could be unlocked from the inside. Carl must have done it their second day in the prison when he had snuck away from the rest of them.

Glenn nodded and pushed open the door, then indicated for her to go ahead of him. The infirmary was a mess. The entire place was littered with broken glass, scattered papers and overturned furniture. Maggie's first stop was a shelving unit with several empty boxes on it. She continued to search cupboards while Glenn took the other side of the room.

She heard a door open and she turned to see her partner pushing his way into an office space. Turning back to her own task she picked up loose packets of gauze and a box of sterile gloves. Her search was interrupted by a whistle from the other room.

"Hello motherlode," Glenn said loudly enough for her to hear. "Found the medicine storage," he announced.

Maggie followed his earlier path and entered the office behind him. "Carl probably didn't see it," she said, observing the solid wood inset. Peering over Glenn's shoulder she inspected the almost untouched stash of medicine bottles. "Jackpot," she grinned, barely containing her excitement as she threw her arms around Glenn's shoulders. "Pack them up. And get the saline bags too."

The young woman pressed a kiss to the back of his head and moved around him to search the surrounding cabinets. They contained several rolls of gauze and medical tape, and a box of I.V and suture kits. As she loaded the supplies into her bag, Maggie felt hopeful that they would be able to get Lori through this. Light illuminated the darkness inside of her and she felt overwhelmed by relief. Her emotions manifested themselves as tears, building in her eyes and as hard as she tried, she couldn't hold them back.

The first tear slid down her face and then a second before the damn broke. Glenn must have sensed her distress because he was at her side in an instant closing his arms around her trembling form.

"We don't have time for this," she ground out, frustrated with herself.

Glenn didn't ease his grip on her when she pushed away from him, determined to pull herself together. "Let me be strong for you," he whispered as one of his hands came to cradle the back of her head. Her tears flowed silently, soaking the fabric of his shirt, and she clung to him.

"I sliced her open. I ripped her apart, she begged me to but she, god, she screamed and then...I left her there," she said, her voice thick with tears. "I thought she was dead and I thought Carl had… but she wasn't. He didn't."

She felt Glenn rubbing her back, "It wasn't your fault, Maggie. The baby is alive because you were so brave. You couldn't have known. None of this is your fault." His tone was soothing and even as he spoke.

Slowly Maggie pushed away from him to look him in the eye, "How can that be true," she swallowed hard. "That day at the farm, the look on her face when I threw those pills at her." Maggie had barely known Lori back then. The group had only been on the farm for a few days when Lori had discovered her pregnancy and asked Glenn to help her. Maggie had been so angry that the errand had put both hers and Glenn's lives in danger that she had lashed out at the older woman.

"Lori chose to keep the baby, Maggie," Glenn's spoke with so much conviction that it was hard to not believe him.

She looked down at her hands and nodded. You're right," she conceded in a long exhale. "I'm just exhausted."

"Let's get back then. Hershel and Carol will need to get to work before there isn't any light left," he reached for her hand and Maggie let him take it. "We'll come back and clean the rest of this out later, okay?"

Maggie nodded again and allowed herself to be led towards the cafeteria.

XXXX

Carol nervously glanced at the fading sunlight through the large windows opposite the cells. "We'll need flashlights or something soon," she told Hershel who was carefully cutting away the plastic wrap that had been holding Lori together for hours now.

Hershel looked at the windows too and nodded in agreement. "And someone with a steady hand to hold them still."

"How long will it take for you to repair the damage," Carol winced as the plastic was pulled back, allowing Lori's belly to spread open, revealing purple tissue and pooled blood. Some of the clots that had formed tore away and began to bleed again. Carol was ready with some packing gauze which she used to clear the area to that Hershel could work.

"Maybe we should have given the coagulants more time," she said, leaning back to give the ex-vet room to work.

"I'm afraid she's out of time," Hershel nodded to the incision. "Pull her skin back, so I can see."

Carol leaned in and hesitated before placing her hands over the site, unsure of how to proceed. Finally she used her thumb and forefingers as clamps and drew the flaps back. She had expected the skin to move easily, but it was stiff like cooling wax in her hands. She had to apply more pressure and guide it back, exposing Lori's insides.

Hershel worked confidently as he guided the uterus upwards. Carol had already placed the needle, clamp, and thread on the bed and the old man picked them up. He inspected the materials briefly before getting to work. Carol watched Lori's face, looking for any signs of consciousness. When she saw none she returned her eyes to check on Hershel's progress. He was working quietly and meticulously as he worked his way over the severed tissue, his breath coming in long even exhalations.

"I'm going to need that flashlight, Carol," he said picking up the vinegar bottle that they had rinsed to use for the saline. He flushed the area and inspected his work.

Carol released her traction and pushed herself to her feet without using her hands. Peeking her head out into the hall, her eyes settled on Rick and Carl, the latter of whom was getting a lesson on how to hold his baby sister. A small smile formed on Carol's lips as she watched the boy interact with the baby, his face illuminated with curiosity and intrigue.

Sophia would have adored having a baby around, Carol knew. She had been such a sweet and nurturing girl.

"Can I try feeding her again?" Carl asked as he picked up the cloth icing bag that Maggie and Glenn had brought back from the cafeteria with them. The bag wasn't great, but it was better than any other option they had. By clipping the end of it with a medical clamp, Rick was able to control the flow of the powdered milk.

The baby had gone almost a day without anything to eat and had drunk greedily when the bag had first been placed to her mouth. Rick, whose arm was secured tightly around his son's shoulders, nodded and helped the boy pour the water and powder concoction into the bag. The sound of suckling filled the air and Carol closed her eyes to drift back to a memory of her own baby.

No.

She shook herself lightly. There would be plenty of time for that later.

Carol cleared her throat. "Rick? We could use a hand in here," she told him when he looked up.

Rick looked to his son who nodded, not taking his eyes off his baby sister. Lifting his arm off Carl, Rick gave the baby's foot a gentle squeeze then pushed himself to his feet.

"We need more light," Carol said when he arrived at her side. "I was hoping you could hold a flashlight, or someone else if it's too much."

"She's my wife," Rick was already moving towards the cell that they had designated as the supply room.

Carol watched the man go, admiring his strength. In spite of everything he had stepped up for the sake of his family. She respected that in a man. Her thoughts turned to Daryl, who had impressed her today as well. She looked to the window, a touch concerned that he hadn't returned yet- but sure that he would.

She turned around and ducked back into the cell where Hershel was still working on closing Lori up.

"She's strong," he said, looking at the unconscious woman affectionately. "I knew it the first day I saw her. How she held it together when Carl was shot. All these months through the winter. Pregnant, and the distance between her and Rick. Carl, too… It's not an obvious kind of strength, but it's there."

Carol took a seat beside their designated surgeon and looked at his work. He had stitched a long railroad track across her abdomen shaped like a wobbly smile. It wasn't pretty, but if it kept her alive it didn't matter. "I know," Carol agreed, slipping off her gloves. She took Lori's cold slender fingers in hers. "This shouldn't have happened to her."

She heard a small click from behind her and a beam of artificial light cut through the growing darkness. She accepted one of the lights when Rick passed it over her shoulder and he turned the other one on. They both held their lights onto Lori's abdomen where Hershel was putting in a final set of stitches.

"We'll start her on antibiotics right away and we'll have to keep the area clean," Carol looked at Rick over her shoulder. He looked exhausted as he peered underneath the bunk at his wife. She watched his face for a moment: the tight thin line of his mouth, the soft crinkles around his eyes, and she felt the need to comfort him. Reaching over she took his forearm and his eyes whipped over to meet hers. "Sit with her," she offered, getting up from her seat.

Rick rejected her offer, though weakly, recoiling from the seat. It took only her hand on his shoulder, pushing him down into her vacated spot to make the weary man comply.

"I'll get Beth," Carol offered, placing her flashlight into Rick's empty hand. "We can do the transfusion tonight, so she can have time to rest and recover. In case we need to do another one tomorrow."

Rick looked to her, then Hershel, then back to her. "We don't know Lori's blood type. Won't that be dangerous?" He asked.

"Beth is a Universal Donor. Type specific would be ideal," Hershel clipped the thread on his final stitch and leaned back to inspect his work. "But under the circumstances it will do just fine."

Carol watched as Rick abandoned the flashlights on the bed next to Lori's hip. He reached for Hershel- his hand landing on the older mans forearm, and then Carol, taking her wrist. "I can't tell you how grateful I am to you both."

XXXXX

The prison was quiet around him and Rick felt grateful for the time alone. He had volunteered to sit with Lori first, knowing that he wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. She still looked deathly pale against the white pillow that her head rested on, but he knew that her colouring had improved since the blood transfusion. She already seemed less frail and her breathing had evened out, too.

He glanced upwards to the top bunk and smiled at the boy, whose arm was draped freely over the side of the bed, his fingers curled at the tips. Carl had refused to allow his mother out of his sight throughout the day and had insisted that he wasn't tired after everyone else had turned in. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep though after everything went quiet, his arms propped up on the foot of Lori's bed. Rick had lifted the boy easily and placed him on the top bunk where he had curled into himself, pushed beyond endurance.

A small whimper turned his attention away from the bunk towards the wooden box beside him. Carl and Maggie had carefully padded the fruit delivery crate with a few pillows and the blanket from Lori's bed in her cell upstairs. The baby had been sleeping quietly in her makeshift cradle for a couple of hours, satisfied so far with the powdered milk they had given her.

Rick hoped that Daryl would return soon with some real formula; powdered milk didn't have the nutritional value required by the baby. Reaching down Rick used his pinky to stroke the little girl's soft rounded cheek and he admired her little ears. She had the same ears as Carl; the ones that Lori had insisted were form her father. He remembered with a fond smile the little game they'd played through the early years of their son's life. They would debate, sometimes heatedly- but always in good humour- about where he had gotten his finer features from. And then assign blame to the other's side of the family for his extra runny nose and turbulent disposition.

The baby girl stirred again and Rick picked her up. Her eyes were open, but it was too dark for Rick to pick out their colour. She looked up at him through the blurry unfocused gaze of any infant and whimpered again, her brow pinching- Lori's brow.

He looked for himself in the baby. He couldn't help it. He would allow himself this one time where he would question her paternity.

When he couldn't pick out a single that that he may have passed onto her, his mind investigated the other option. Her chin could be Shane's or the shape of her eyes. Rick tilted his head, examining more closely. If they were Shane's…

If…

...If they were Shane's eyes or hands or his mouth, it didn't matter. It would never matter. It wouldn't be the eyes of the man who had pulled a gun on him that last night on the farm, or the mouth that spat venom and hateful words. Nor the hands that had killed Otis and Randall in cold blood.

They would reflect the rough and loyal boy who had insisted every day at lunch through elementary school that Rick be allowed to join the soccer game. And the mischievous teen who had sat tight-lipped on the other side of the principal's desk, swearing that no one else had been in on the prank that flooded cafeteria, while Rick hid the evidence of their crime. The young man who stood at his side during his wedding to Lori, who had wordlessly had a handkerchief ready for him when she first appeared at the other end of the aisle. That was the man who had given them this beautiful gift.

Maybe.

The baby had settled again against her father's chest, her face tucked into the side of his neck. She breathed evenly through her nose, one walnut sized fist curled against her cheek.

Headlights splashed against the windows, projecting the bars against the back wall of the cell. Rick got to his feet and picked up the heavy ring of keys. He unlocked the large doors quietly and listened for the sound of anyone else having been disturbed. When he heard nothing he made his way outside, the baby still cradled in his arms. Daryl was picking off a couple of Walkers that had been attracted to the- Rick did a double take. Ambulance.

His muscles twitched in a natural reaction, readying his body to join the fight. But he stayed back, conscious of the fragile little girl resting against him. Rick stepped back into the shadows to avoid drawing attention to himself and he watched Daryl easily manage the small pack.

"All clear," Daryl called out, his voice controlled so it wouldn't attract any Walkers that may have been left over in the yard.

Rick stepped out into the night and walked carefully down the stairs, mindful that he didn't trip. It had been years since he'd had any practice maneuvering with a baby in his arms. As he approached the ambulance Daryl was busy wiping his boot on the back tire. Rick looked down to the Walker closest to him and his lips curled at the side of its head smashed into the pavement, brains and rotting tissue mixed in with loose gravel. He turned his attention back to the rig. "Where'd you get this?"

"Out on the highway," Daryl said, picking a bone fragment out of his treads. He tossed it to the side and put his foot back down. "Quiet," he nodded to the baby.

Rick smoothed one hand over the infant's back. "We fed her some powdered milk. Did you find formula?"

"Found a shit load of supplies," Daryl led Rick around the back of the ambulance and opened the back doors. "Cleaned out some cars on the highway, we can sort through it tomorrow," he picked up a soft yellow bag. "Lori?"

They closed the doors and fell into step with one another as they headed back inside. "Holding up," Rick answered. "Maggie and Daryl found a supply room or something in the infirmary. Hershel stitched her up and Beth gave her some blood."

"She wake up?" Daryl looped the bag over his shoulder and took the keys from Rick's hand. Rick shook his head and they walked side-by-side into C-Block.

When they found themselves standing just outside of Lori's cell, Rick turned to thank the other man, but was silenced by a hand on his shoulder. "Let me take her for a bit," Daryl offered, putting his hands out for the baby.

Surprised, Rick hesitated, unsure if Daryl was kidding. After a brief inspection of his face- and finding no trace of humour, Rick nodded and carefully passed over the baby. He was surprised again to find no awkwardness in the way that Daryl moved to accommodate the little bundle, his arms easily supporting her head and trunk.

"We need some alone time, don't we sweetheart?" Daryl whispered to the baby, walking towards the stairs. "Time to get to know Uncle Daryl."

Rick watched both dumfounded and amused at the sight of their resident badass cooing at the less-than-a-day-old baby in his arms, a soft yellow diaper bag slung over his shoulder in place of his trademark crossbow. He gave his head a shake then turned and stepped back in to check on Lori.

XXXX

Daryl sat down on the thin mattress on the floor that he had been using as his bed. He laid the baby down on her back, his legs on either side of her. She was awake now, her uncoordinated limbs jerking wildly and her eyes searching the room around her. Daryl opened the yellow bag that he'd found on the highway and pulled out a box of wipes. He cleaned the grime, blood and motor oil off his hands then turned his attention back to the baby.

"You hungry?" He asked her, running his now clean forefinger over her cheek. She responded to the stimulation and turned her face, seeking his finger. When she found his finger she latched onto its tip with her pink little lips. "Good thing I got somethin' for ya," he pulled his hand back. "But first we gotta get'cha pretty."

Reaching back into the bag, Daryl pulled out a diaper and the clothes that had been shoved into the bag. He decided on the little dress he had first discovered and the matching hat. Turning back to the baby, he opened her blanket to expose a cloth that had been fastened around her bottom with a couple of 'gator clips. He was impressed with the group's ingenuity, but he knew from experience that that wouldn't do much once her system really started working. Scooping the baby up from between her ankles he lifted her bottom up and cleaned her off before securing a disposable diaper around her.

He inspected the diaper to make sure it was fitting right and then made quick work of putting the dress over her head. She fussed a little as he carefully pulled her arms through the sleeves, but settled when he lifted her to his chest so he could fasten the little pearl buttons on the back. He held the baby out and inspected his handiwork. The dress was a little big but she would grow into it in time.

His brow furrowed and he frowned when he inspected her curled feet that were tinted blue. Laying her back down, Daryl looked through the bag and pulled out a tiny pair of folded socks. He slipped them over her toes and pulled them up.

"How's that?" He asked picking her up again and laying her in the crook of his arm. "Almost human, yeah? Let's get you some food," he told her, lifting out the can of formula. He continued to mutter nonsense to the baby while he prepared a bottle one-handed, using the water from next to his mattress. She closed her mouth happily around the nipple of the bottle and sucked, falling into an easy rhythm, her eyes drifting closed.

"Well isn't this a sight," a soft female voice drifted out from the wall of shadows that made up Carol's cell. He heard the rustling of clothes and then a zipper before she appeared, pale and clearly still exhausted. "Baby looks good on you, Dixon," she told him, descending the stairs to join him on the catwalk. She kneeled next to him, her knees barely touching the mattress.

Daryl looked at the baby to avoid meeting the woman's eyes. "Wanna hold her?" He offered the baby up, suddenly self-conscious.

Carol shook her head and held up a hand to stop him from passing her the baby. "I should go check on Lori," she pushed herself easily to her feet.

Daryl watched her, the way her slender hands wound themselves around her waist. She was giving him that look again- the one that he wasn't sure how to interpret. The woman confused the hell out of him, which would normally piss him off- he couldn't stand it when people made shit more complicated than it had to be.

She was still standing there, looking at him, her face coated in shadows.

"What!" He barked, annoyed with her standing there, not saying anything. "I ain't no mind-reader, Carol. You see a pack of tarot cards 'round here? Fuckin' crystal ball?"

"Were you worried? When you didn't know where I was?" She asked, kneeling down beside him again, her hands dropping to her sides. "Did you care?"

Daryl felt his chest tighten, but he ignored the sensation. " -the hell does it matter? Ya got found didn'cha." He looked down at the baby- anywhere but at her. The little girl in his arms was drawing air through the empty bottle and he pulled it free from her mouth. She let out an annoyed cry and arched her back as she began to wail.

Grateful for the distraction he lifted her onto his shoulder and patted her back. When she didn't quiet he placed her little hand in her mouth and held it there for her. His ear was filled with the sound of sucking as she gummed her hand, soothing herself.

Carol swallowed- her jaw pulled tight, her arms wrapped around herself again. "How'd you learn what to do with a baby?" Carol asked, she reached out and tentatively rested her hand on the little girl's back, her hand covering Daryl's.

He had long ago forced the pain from that story deep inside himself, burying it with the anger that he wore like armour. He had kept her locked away, sweet Georgia Lyn, with her blue eyes and corn coloured hair that felt like silk in his hands. She'd come and gone with the dry grass of August, taking the best part of him with her. Her mother had gone not long after. They hadn't been married; their only tie a little unmarked plot in the local cemetery, so it was easy for her to go her own way. Act like Georgia had never lived- never died.

She'd come back to him in Sophia, and now again today, giving him another chance to save her. He wouldn't fail again. If he did there would be nothing left of him.

"I had a girl," he finally spat out, the words bittersweet like acid and honey on his tongue. "Called her Skeeter," his voice broke as he spoke the name that he hadn't heard out-loud for years. Clearing his throat hard he nodded. "She died." The words seemed simple enough, but they cut him to the core, denting his armour like a blow to his chest.

Carol's stone grey eyes widened but she didn't say anything for a long time. Her expression held understanding and a mutual pain. Daryl waited for pity, but it never came. Instead she leaned in and pressed her lips to his cheek, softly, and briefly. When she pulled away her eyes were closed, her face tilted down. Her hands had dropped to her side again.

His fingers twitched and he reached up to take her chin. She flinched slightly but didn't move away. This time it was he who leaned in. The kiss he initiated came harder and faster than their previous one, eliciting a soft moan from the woman before him.


	4. Chapter 4

Rick sat in the dark, listening to the sound of his family breathing in the otherwise silent prison. In the distance he could hear the hushed voices of Daryl and a woman, probably Carol. He glanced at the i.v. dripping steadily into Lori's arm as she slept- her hand loose in his own. He brushed over her knuckles and traced the length of her fingers to her nails. He loved her hands- the way they would always reach out for him to communicate, to connect, to love him.

She had always been that way- so endearingly touchy. It was one of the things that had drawn him to her all those years before at her older brother's freshman year party. He'd been drawn to her instantly, her long dark hair twisted back into a pony-tail and her green eyes sparkling as she watched her brother make a fool of himself. He'd told her that she must have taken all the good genes, and she'd laughed, flashing him a gorgeous smile that made his heart flutter. And then her hand had moved to touch his arm and he'd been hooked.

He'd spent the next two summers driving up to Cynthiana from Knoxville under the pretences of seeing her brother. It was on the night of her high-school graduation that she had finally agreed to let him take her out for a celebratory milkshake, and he'd kissed her, barefoot on her parent's front porch that night, her finger's threaded through his. She'd smelled like daisies and vanilla, though she laughed and insisted now that it had been plain old bug spray.

Her thumb twitched, pulling him back to the present, and his eyes shot up to her face. Her eyes were open, moving rapidly as they searched the bunk above her. She moaned softly, the sound hitched on sharp breaths and she tightened her fingers around his.

"Lori," he rasped, feeling a mixture of relief and fear as he leaned over her so that she could see him.

Her hand was clutching his now and he cringed as tears welled in her eyes before sliding down her temples to collect in her hairline. "Oh, baby," he used his free hand to thumb away a trail of moisture, but it was quickly replaced by the next onslaught. She shifted underneath him and he leaned back to accommodate her hand as she moved it to her abdomen, pressing down against the incision. She cried out softly, her eyes still wide with tears.

"I'm going to get Carol," he pressed a kiss to her forehead and ducked, clearing the top bunk. He walked quickly into the main area of the cell block and approached the perch where Carol was crouched down with her back to him. "Carol," he whispered loudly taking the first few stairs two at a time.

The woman peered over the edge at him already getting to her feet.

Rick turned around again and jogged back towards the cell where Lori was waiting. Carol fell into step just behind him. "She's awake- I think she's in pain," he filled her in as they entered the cell dark cell.

He kneeled beside Lori and stroked her damp hair off her forehead, frowning at the heat he found there. "She's warm," he told Carol and she crouched beside him, fumbling with a bottle of pills. "I think she has a fever."

"Lori, I'm going to give you something for the pain," Carol poured two pills into her palm and looked to Rick.

Rick lifted Lori and slid onto the bed, keeping her elevated. He picked up the bottle of water from beside the bed and took the pills from Carol. He popped them into his wife's mouth and helped her sip the water. She moaned again and collapsed against his thighs, her energy spent. Rick's hands still cradled her head and he wiped away her tears again.

She was still awake, though barely, her hands pressed against her stomach, and her breaths coming in short gasps. Tears leaked from her closed eyelids, clinging to her eyelashes.

"Can't we do anything?" Rick asked, feeling his own eyes mist, his heart tearing at the sound of Lori's soft whimper.

Carol looked unsure, her teeth worrying her lower lip. "She's holding her incision," she noted. "Maybe the pressure helps."

Rick nodded, "I remember when she had Carl. She used to hold a couch cushion against her stomach. Said it felt like she had to hold her insides in." Rick reached behind him and eased the pillow out from underneath himself. The pillow was almost flat so he folded it in half and pressed it down gently over the incision site. Lori's hands moved out from underneath the pillow and covered his, applying pressure.

"That help?" Rick asked, leaning down to kiss her fevered forehead again. She nodded and closed her eyes, her whole body relaxing. Her hands remained on his, though she wasn't pressing anymore- trusting him not to let go. "Okay, sleep," he soothed her, resting his forehead against hers.

It wasn't long before her breathing evened out again as she drifted off to sleep.

Rick looked to Carol who was adjusting the blankets. She seemed to sense her eyes on him and she turned to look him dead on.

Carol offered him a gentle pat on the shoulder. "She's awake. This is a good thing," she assured him.

Looking back down at his wife, Rick breathed a sigh of relief and he allowed himself a smile.

XXXX

Rick checked his sidearm again as he moved down the long cement halls of the prison. It was still dark and he could barely see more than a few feet in front of him so he listened hard for anything lurking in the shadows around him. His feet crunched on broken cement and dirt as he moved deeper into the prison. The smell of copper and death was overwhelming in the air; they hadn't had time to clean out the bodies yet.

He could hear something in the distance but he wasn't sure what exactly it was- an alarm, maybe a bell. Maybe the generator had kicked back in, though he was pretty sure he had destroyed it. The sound kept coming, drawing him into the bowels of the prison, further and further away from the safety of the group. He pulled his gun out and checked the cylinder. He only had a few rounds, so he would be screwed if he wasn't the only one attracted to the distant jingling.

He felt the steel door under his hand before he could see it. His eyes were still adjusting to the dark and there were no windows in this part of the prison to cast any light at all. The door wasn't quite closed so it sat ajar, its metal shell distorted until it wouldn't fit into the frame. Rick pressed his ear against the door and waited. The sound came again and he looked around him before pulling it open. The door gave way with a heavy groan that sent a nervous flutter through his body. If they hadn't heard him coming before they would certainly be aware of his presence now.

He considered turning back and going back to C-Block, to Lori. He and Daryl could do a sweep tomorrow. His consideration ended though with the sound of the bell again, drawing him in. When he stepped inside he recognized his surroundings: the tight hallway with the sharp right that would take him down the grated steps into the boiler room.

The room smelled like copper and Rick briefly wondered if it was blood or the water lines that were fixed to the ceiling above his head. He followed the tight corridor into the larger room and froze at the top of the stairs. The room was illuminated more brightly than he expected. Its large windows allowed the moon to cast its pale eerie glow over the cement floors, the various equipments, and the blood that looked almost black where it had soaked into the ground.

Rick froze, his heart hammering in his ears. There was so much blood, spreading outwards from the void where Lori had lain only a few hours before, dying. He inspected the area, his body tense and pulsing as he listened to the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears. The sound of the alarm startled him again and he jumped, his heart kicking into overdrive.

His feet moved forward despite his internal protest and he stepped off the bottom stair onto the ground. From his new vantage point he could make out a distortion in the blood; long smears moving away from him into the darkness beyond.

Another sound came from the darkness: choking, like someone trying to eat too fast. He placed his hand on the trigger of his weapon and he followed the sound into a hallway. There was someone in the distance, something, he realized- a Walker. It was propped up against the far wall, its belly distended, as though pregnant, its face raw with blood and rotting flesh. It reached for him, letting out a snarl, though it didn't get up, clearly immobilized by its swollen gut.

Rick kneeled down, far enough away that the thing wouldn't be able to grab him. He inspected its stomach first, watched as it writhed as it tried to reach for him. Blood streaked its torso and Rick followed the lines up to its face. He froze at his inspection of its mouth, specifically the clumps of long dark hair that was caught it in its teeth or half swallowed.

Rick felt panic grip him like icy fingers and the room suddenly became impossibly bright. The Walker opened its mouth, showing off its black and decaying gums- it gurgled and expelled a long stream of flesh and blood, as black as tar, as though its insides were rejecting the size of its recent meal.

Nauseated and panicked Rick fired a single shot into its head, a sob breaking free from his own chest as he spotted something mixed in with the vomit: a delicate silver chain looped through a heart-shaped locket- Lori's locket.

Rick's knife sliced through the Walker's belly hard and fast. At first it felt tight and then it split open with the sound of fabric tearing, its content's spilling forth to over the thing's lap. Clumps of long dark hair wound around intestines and bone fragments, mixed in with partially chewed putrid flesh.

Rick sobbed again.

Lori Lori Lori.

He tried to scream but the pressure in his chest was so great that he couldn't breathe in enough to make a sound.

Ring Ring Ring

His head snapped up and his eyes settled on a phone on a table.

Ring

Ring

Ring

Rick's eyes shot open to reveal the cinderblock walls of Lori's cell. The early morning sun peeked through the windows and cast the shadows of the bars across the floor and Lori's face. The boiler room was gone along with the swollen Walker and ringing phone.

His heart beat rapidly against his ribcage and his hand flew up to cover his heaving chest. Cold sweat dripped down his back and face, causing his t-shirt and hair to cling to him uncomfortably.

Lori moaned lightly and spoke, still appearing to be asleep. "Rick," the word was thin, with barely any voice behind it. "Baby, what's wrong?" Her eyes opened, glassy and detached. She peered up at him and her brow pinched.

She moved sluggishly, wincing as she raised her hand, reaching for him. "I can hear your heart racing." She was barely alert, but she was searching his face and she looked surprised when his hand closed around hers. Her fingers fumbled clumsily as she adjusted their grip so she was holding onto him instead. "What happened?"

Rick shook his head, still not trusting his voice to say anything. He wasn't sure if he trusted that any of this was real at all.

"Baby, you're shaking," she whispered, bringing his hand to her mouth. She kissed his knuckles, her eyes drifting closed. "Tell me."

He cleared his throat, the same panic, fear, and sadness that he had felt in his dreams moving through him again, threatening to overwhelm him. "I- there was a phone. It w-was ringing," he explained, the room blurring as tears built in his eyes. He blinked them away and looked back down at Lori who had fallen asleep again, one hand holding her stomach, the other still twisted around his.

Rick held his breath as he heard movement from outside the cell and voices from upstairs. With his free hand, fingers still trembling, he moved Lori's hair to the side, careful not to wake her. Leaning forward he peered at her neck, searching for the necklace that wasn't there.

XXXXX

Carol checked the burner on the camping stove that they had been using to cook since they arrived at the prison. When she saw that it had a healthy flame she placed a pot of water onto the burner to make oatmeal. Her mouth watered at the thought of the canned peaches and brown sugar that she would pair with the meal.

There were three things that Carol missed most of all - besides Sophia -: her Maytag, her vibrator; though she was hoping that wouldn't be an issue anymore, she thought, glancing towards the door where Daryl was speaking with Rick, and finally, snacking. With their food supply so limited, they had been on rations since they left the farm. She missed midnight treats and mid morning nibbles.

They had all gotten used to the hunger that clawed at their belly's morning, noon, and night and the weakness that came from mal-nutrition. Part of her was grateful that Sophia had never known the sting of frost this past winter or the exhaustion that came with being too afraid to close your eyes.

Carol looked to Carl, who sat next to Beth at the table, his hand resting on his baby sister's belly while the young woman fed her. She watched his young face look up at the blonde girl and wondered which of the female's in his company he adored more. She frowned and wondered if he missed Sophia at all anymore. If anyone even had a thought left for her little girl.

There were so many dead.

She looked at the baby who sucked greedily on the bottle, her eyes watching Carl suspiciously.

Carol looked away, feeling lonely for her daughter. She turned back to her task and opened a can of chicken broth for Lori. Hershel had agreed that she would need to eat something to build her strength and help her body heal. The broth was poured into another pot and placed on the second burner to heat up.

She looked up when Glenn and Maggie came in, their arms heavy with the supplies that Daryl had brought back from the highway. The group had made a small pile of things that they had unloaded from the ambulance. She herself was eyeing the fresh linen set that was still in store packaging, but she knew that it would probably have to go on Lori's bed in order to help prevent infection.

Daryl came in too, a propane tank in his hands. He approached her with it, a small proud smile on his lips. "Figured we'll get low eventually," he nodded to the camping stove.

Carol hummed in agreement. "Yeah," she indicated for him to follow her into the storage room. "We'll put it in here until we do."

Carol crossed her arms and leaned against the cell bars, watching as Daryl carefully put the tank on the ground. She bit her lip, admiring his ass while he wasn't looking. Her eyes met his when he turned around to face her.

"I was thinking, after I get Lori bathed and fed… we could, maybe go spend some time in the guard tower," she suggested, trying to keep her voice even.

Daryl looked at her for a moment, as though processing the request then pushed past her. "Can't," he said over his shoulder. "Left my bike on the highway. Gotta go get it."

Carol watched him go, feeling disappointed. Taking a breath she dropped her hands and followed him out. Tilting her chin up she went back over to the stove to tend to breakfast, watching Carl and Beth out of the corner of her eye. Beth was giggling at Carl as he attempted to burp the baby, while his cheeks flushed under her scrutiny.

Later, Carol plastered a smile on her face when she entered Lori's cell, a tray in hand. "Well look at you," she said to Lori, who was sitting up in bed while Hershel looked her over.

Lori, propped up on a pile of pillows, smiled thinly at Carol. Despite her pale complexion the other woman was still striking, her beautiful dark hair flowing over her shoulders. "Hershel thought it would be good for me to sit up to avoid fluid in my lungs…"

"That's right," the old man drawled kindly. "And it suits you fine," he reached forward patted his patient's hand. "We'll have you up and walking soon. Same reason, but blood clots," he turned to Carol.

"How is everything looking?" Carol placed the tray of food on the small table that they had used for surgical equipment.

"Just fine," Hershel picked up his crutches and got to his feet with Carol's help. Though still unsteady on his feet, he had adjusted well to the amputation. "We'll increase her antibiotics and take care of that infection."

Carol stepped aside to let him pass.

"Breakfast smells delicious, Carol," he drawled as he left.

Alone with Lori now, Carol turned back to the dark haired woman, who was resting with her eyes closed, one hand draped over her stomach. Her pain was obvious and she was trembling beneath the sheets. "I'll get you something for the pain," Carol offered sympathetically.

Lori opened her eyes and shook her head. "I don't want to take anything."

Carol snorted. "Don't be ridiculous, Lori. You're clearly in pain," she picked up the bottle of pain killers and opened the lid.

Lori shook her head again. "I am," she admitted, her voice a soft whisper.

"Then why on earth-," Carol opened her arms, the pill bottle rattling in her grasp.

Lori's hand moved to her chest and she pulled the blanket down, her dark eyes looking at her drenched shirt. An embarrassed half-smile crept over her face. "I, uhh," the smile shifted into a more genuine one and she swiped her hand over her cheek to dry a stray tear. "I want to feed my baby."

Carol paused then snapped the lid back onto the pill bottle. She nodded and picked up a roll of gauze. "Let's get you fed first," she sat on the stool beside Lori and touched her arm lightly. "We'll see what else we can do for the pain later."

Lori's arms dropped heavily to her side and she nodded, looking up at Carol, her face wane and glistening with sweat and tears.

Tentatively, Carol reached forward with the gauze, her eyes seeking Lori's permission. When the other woman gave her a tiny nod she slipped the gauze in place under Lori's shirt to soak up the excess breast milk. "We'll change your shirt soon," she promised, picking up the bowl of lukewarm soup.

Lori's eyes were still teary when Carol placed the spoon to her lips. She hesitated; her face paling further and she scrunched her nose, taking a deep breath through her mouth. "I'm feeling a little nauseated," she laughed humourlessly.

"Just try to take a little," Carol offered her best encouraging smile. "Then we'll bring you your girl."

XXXX

Lori wanted to curl up and cry- if she could curl up- which she highly doubted at this point. The pain was dull and constant, bringing with it wave after wave of nausea and tremors. She looked at the top bunk and tried to pull herself together before Rick and Carl came back from showering. Hershel's latest decree was that they that they keep her cell as sterile and sanitary as possible in order to help her body fight off the infection that had set in.

The soup that Carol had insisted she eat wasn't sitting well and she felt acid rising into her throat. She swallowed it down and along with the moan that threatened to escape when Carol nudged her arm, knocking her torso in turn.

"Sorry," the other woman apologized, cringing. She slowed her movements to avoid another accident as she finished redressing Lori's bandages.

"It's okay," Lori sniffed, looking down to inspect herself. She felt better after a sponge bath, administered by Carol, and in a fresh shirt and panties. The shirt was big on her and had buttons down the front, so she would have easy access to feed the baby.

Carol sat back in her seat and inspected her work. After a moment she nodded and looked up to meet Lori's gaze.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" She asked, picking up the comb from the small table in the room. She scooted forward and sat next to Lori on the bed. "We have formula."

Lori closed her eyes as Carol began to work the comb through her long dark hair, her fingers gently picking out tangles. She sniffed again, wishing she could get her emotions in check. She didn't remember feeling this hormonal after Carl was born, but then, she hadn't been sleeping in a prison cell with access to only rudimentary medical treatment. "I want to do it," she finally said, wiping her cheeks. "I'm sorry about all this," she motioned to her tears.

Carol moved forward, sliding one arm around Lori's shoulders as she pulled her into a light hug. "I cried for weeks after Sophia was born, my hormones were everywhere," she laughed softly at the memory. "Of course, we didn't have enough money to pay the rent and Ed… well, Ed was Ed," she gave Lori a tight squeeze then went back to fixing her hair.

Lori smiled in appreciation and dried her eyes again. If she was being completely honest, she was a little bit nervous about seeing the baby.

What if it was Shane's? What if she could see it? What if that was all she could see? What about Rick?

Carol pulled her hair back over her shoulders and she felt the beginnings of a French braid as fingers worked their way over her scalp, separating strands. They sat in comfortable silence until Carol finished up and got to her feet.

"I'll send her in," Carol patted her on the shoulder and got to her feet. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?"

Lori nodded. "Thank you." She looked down at her fingers, worrying the blanket nervously. The baby might not like her. It had been almost two days since her birth. She might have bonded with the others. She might not trust her…

She heard footsteps approaching and then a gruff voice ask. "Ya decent?"

"As ever," she joked softly as Daryl came in, the baby in his arms. Her heart picked up speed as she inspected the blue and green blanket in his arms. She couldn't see the baby yet as she had been swaddled tightly. "I wasn't expecting you to-," Lori shook her head, surprised by the sight of Daryl Dixon with a baby in his arms.

He shot her a warning look and she returned it with an apologetic one of her own.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to insinuate…" before she could finish he cut her off by laying the baby on her lap. Shocked by the sudden exchange she jerked to secure her in place.

"Careful!" He barked, grabbing her hand to still her. "Jeeze, s'like you ain't never held a baby before," he snipped.

Lori closed her eyes, trying to swallow the tears that were already building. "I'm sorry," she sighed, taking a deep breath. "I don't know if I can-," she shook her head, overwhelmed by the pain and the fear. She wasn't supposed to be here. She couldn't be a good mother to this baby. She ruined everything she touched: Rick, Shane, Carl…

Two strong hands closed around her shoulders, shaking her from her thoughts. She opened her eyes to meet Daryl's hard icy blue ones. He had stooped down to look her straight on. "Stop yer panickin'," he instructed. "Yer her mama. It's yer job to keep yer shit together."

Lori took a deep breath, and then another. The Redneck raised his eyebrows and she nodded. Her incision pulled painfully, as though she had been socked in the stomach and her hand moved on its own accord to the site. She stopped when she connected with the soft fabric of the baby's blanket, frozen.

"Okay," she nodded, ignoring the tears on her cheeks. Daryl moved back and she instantly missed his hands gripping her - grounding her. With him out of the way her view of the baby was no longer obstructed. Looking down she felt her heart swell and her eyes filled with tears again, this time coming from a different place. Sliding her arms under her daughter she tried to lift her, but the motion made her whimper as her incision plunged her into white blinding pain.

"Careful," Daryl's voice was surprisingly soothing. "Let me help," he said, already lifting the baby up and laying her onto her mother's chest.

She was still recovering from the sudden assault and she wrapped her arm around his wrist to ground herself again.

"Okay there?" Daryl asked, kneeling down beside the bed.

Lori nodded, releasing her hold on him. "I'm good, thanks," she turned her attention to her baby. "I like her dress," she commented, touching the lace detail on one of the sleeves.

"Yeah, I did a run," Daryl told her, passing her the soft blanket that had fallen away.

Lori took the blanket and draped it over her daughter, relishing in the weight and warmth of the newborn. She reached for Daryl again and touched his arm. "Thank you," she told him sincerely, holding his gaze until he cleared his throat and looked away, shifting awkwardly. She looked back down at the little girl in her arms and tilted her head to get a better view. "She's beautiful."

"She is," a soft voice said from the doorway.

She looked to Rick who had come to the open bars, Carl at his side. Her eyes stayed glued to her husband who seemed relaxed, his features soft and his blue eyes crinkled in the corners.

Lori closed her eyes in relief. For the first time in months she felt lighter.

Hopeful.


	5. Chapter 5

Daryl was the first to move, muttering something unintelligible as he pushed his way out of the room. Rick's eyes stayed glued to Lori's as he nudged himself away from the wall and moved towards her. "You look beautiful, too," he said, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead.

He had shaved since she last saw him, and he smelled like soap and peppermint toothpaste. "How are you feeling?" He asked, taking a seat on the chair next to her bed.

"I'm okay," Lori answered honestly. "Hoping this little one wants to eat soon though," she touched her daughter's cheek. "I'm a little," she glanced at her son who hadn't moved from his spot at the door. "Full," she finished, receiving an understanding nod from Rick.

Carl however, looked confused, and something else, too. She inspected him for a moment, the way he hesitated, and she knew the look in his eyes. It was the one he gave her when he knew he had been caught in a lie. Lori reached out to him, inviting him to come closer, but he stayed rooted to the spot.

"Come here, baby," she encouraged, beckoning him with a twitch of her fingers. "It's alright."

He shuffled closer, taking off his hat and holding it in front of him like a shield. He needed a haircut, she thought, reaching up to touch the ends of his brown mop. "Can I have a hug?" She asked him, cupping his soft cheek.

"I don't want to hurt you," he told her, looking down at her stomach, his voice uncertain.

Lori looked at her son. He had become a little man overnight, but he was still such a little boy in so many ways. He had grown over the winter, rising to almost the top of her shoulder, and his face had slimmed, showing off his cheek bones and jaw. His freckles gave him away though, tying him to his youth, softening him. Lori moved her arm around his shoulders and guided him to her, biting down on her lip to manage the pain that the movement caused.

He didn't lean fully into her, clearly still wary of her injuries. His face rested in the crook of her neck, just inches from his baby sister's. When she stroked his back he finally relaxed, the tension leaving his body in a wave.

"I'm sorry," he said on a breath, barely loud enough for her to hear.

Lori didn't have time to respond before the baby shifted and let out an unhappy wail. Carl pulled away startled, and Lori reached for his arm to keep him close. "It's okay," she told him.

"I know," he assured her. "She's probably hungry again. She eats a lot, you know."

Lori gave her son's arm another squeeze and turned her attention to the baby. She hadn't really planned the logistics of feeding her daughter and her uncertainty showed. "Uhh," she looked to her husband. "I think I need some help."

Rick got to his feet, looking at her expectantly.

"Carl, can you pass me that blanket?" Lori asked, nodding to the one that Carol had left folded up on the end of her bed. The preteen moved quickly and passed it to Rick, but then no one moved. "Here, take her," Lori finally said, forming a plan. "Slide in behind me Rick," she instructed her husband, who complied, though slowly. Lori couldn't help but moan when the new position jostled her, pulling her stitches.

"Sorry," Rick kissed her shoulder. "Carl, you don't have to stay," he told their son.

"He's going to see it eventually," Lori shrugged, looking to Carl who stared blankly back at her.

"I'll stay," he decided after a moment, sitting down on the chair that his father had recently vacated.

Rick was already working to unbutton her shirt for her. "Your mom is going to-," he began to explain.

"I know," Carl jumped in. "Feed the baby with her breasts," his ears tinged red at the word breasts but his tone remained matter of fact. "I know how it works, dad," he shrugged. "It's natural."

Lori bit back an amused smile and went back to positioning the baby with Rick's help. It was awkward at first and uncomfortable as hell, but eventually both she and the baby figured out what they were doing and her daughter began to suckle. Lori watched the newborn for a moment, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment. She could offer at least one thing that the little girl needed.

"What is her name?" Carl asked as he pushed the spare blanket under his mother's straining arms.

Lori's raised her eyebrows - she hadn't thought about it. "I- I don't know," she confessed. "What have you guys been calling her?"

"Mmm, well, just baby, and little girl…" her son's face twisted into a wry smile. "And Daryl called her Lil' Asskicker," he confessed, looking down shyly.

Lori chuckled. "It is catchy…," she admitted, looking down at her baby. "Maybe when she is older… Rick?" She asked, leaning back into her husband. She was starting to feel her energy draining. Her healing body wasn't far from calling it quits and forcing her to get some rest.

Rick's voice was soft when he spoke and he pressed a kiss to the column of her neck as her eyes drifted closed. "I was thinking Judith."

Lori smiled. Her eyelids felt too heavy for her to lift them. The baby had stopped drinking and was drifting off to sleep too. Lori felt Rick shift behind her and then he lifted the baby onto her shoulder, one of his hands cupping her diaper padded bum, the other patting her back.

"Why Judith? Like Grandma Judy?" Carl asked.

"Yeah," Rick answered. "Your grandma died not long after we found out about you. Your mom said if you were a girl we'd call you Judith."

"Judith," Carl tried the name out, making Lori smile. "I like it. Will she have a middle name?"

"Judith Maggie Grimes," Lori decided, her voice heavy with the sleep that she could no longer fight off. She let her head roll to the side so she could press a kiss to the newborn's head. "It's perfect."

XXXX

The sun was blistering on the back of his neck as Daryl picked his way through the vehicles on the highway. He looked over his shoulder, annoyed at Maggie and Glenn who couldn't seem to keep their hands off each other today. The older Greene daughter had found something that had the pair of them in giggles, her back pressed up against an old Ford, Glenn pressed up against her. Daryl rolled his eyes and whistled. "Hey! Lovebirds!" he barked, his patience on its last legs. "You wanna get this done or do you wanna be out here all day?"

He turned his back on the pair and went back to poking through the back of an old van. He'd found some ammunition and some hunting knives that he thought might come in handy.

Their priority was food and clothing - diapers if they could find them.

"Condoms," Maggie hollered, holding up an unopened box. She popped the seal with her thumb and sauntered over to him. When she'd reached his side she pulled a row of condoms out and tore a few free. She winked and pushed them into his breast pocket. "Just in case."

"Grow up," Daryl shoved the box of cans that he had found into her arms and moved on to the next car.

Undeterred, Maggie followed him, "What is going on between you and Carol anyway?" She asked, shifting the box into one hip. She used her free hand to open another car door and peered inside the cab.

Daryl wanted to wipe the damn smirk off her face with his fist, and almost did, except he figured it wouldn't go over to well, her being a woman and all. Instead he grunted and slammed the door, wishing he'd come out by himself again. "We should head back," he told her, picking up a package of batteries and a flashlight.

"Don't be sore," Maggie protested, following him through the uneven line-up of cars, back towards where they'd left the ambulance. "You know I was just teasing," she said. "Besides, we all know you-"

"Shut up," Daryl snapped and grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to the ground.

"What is-," Maggie began to ask but was silenced as he closed his hand over her mouth and held a finger to his lips, gesturing for her to shut her trap.

She nodded at him wide-eyed and he released his hold on her. He looked around for Glenn, and not seeing him, turned his attention back to the scene before him. There was a small group crowded around the ambulance, inspecting it. Daryl could barely hear what they were saying, but he was pretty sure the discussion would end with them taking off with their ride, and their supplies.

He spotted Glenn in his periphery, crouched down behind a trailer and he turned to make eye-contact with the Korean. Glenn, who had a better vantage point held up three fingers and nodded to the group. Daryl considered their position. They could take three-on-three, but they would need to surprise the other group. If they could move into position and surround them they would be able to take them easily enough. He looked to Maggie who had drawn her gun.

She looked back at him expectantly, and then followed the line of sight his fingers indicated. He pointed to the woman in the group, a brown-haired one with a bow over her shoulder, strapped across her back. Maggie nodded and slipped away from his side. He watched her crawl, body low to the ground, around the back of the car. Daryl turned to Glenn next and indicated the other man in the group, leaving the largest one for himself.

He held up three fingers and began the countdown, dropping his middle finger, then index. His thumb twitched and curled in, forming a fist. Maggie and Glenn launched forward from their respective hiding places. Daryl moved last but barely made it to his feet before he was taken down be a sharp crack to the back of his skull.

The world fizzled out and went black for a second and he started to twist around to defend himself. The second blow came to the corner of his temple and he landed on his back, losing track of his knife in the process.

The world pulsed around him and he could vaguely hear Glenn and Maggie yelling from somewhere over his left shoulder. The canopy of trees over his head faded in and out and he closed her eyes to block out the searing sun.

He tried to kick away the hands that closed around his ankles but their grip was too strong and he was powerless as he felt his body being dragged over the scorching pavement. His already aching head rattled across the uneven ground, pounding against each crack and pothole.

Eventually it stopped and he turned his face to see who had attacked him but could only see a shadow moving above him. The figure crouched down over him and pressed a cloth to his temple. Sensing no further threat Daryl used his last few moments of consciousness to watch the ambulance pull away. He couldn't hear Maggie or Glenn anymore.

XXXX

Carl had been sitting for a long time watching his mom and Judith sleep. Beth and Carol were washing some laundry and he could hear them chatting softly, Beth's soft voice echoing around the stone walls of their cell-block. He was pretty sure he was going to ask her to be his girlfriend soon, but he hadn't decided yet. If she said no it would be pretty awkward, and he wasn't really sure what to do with a girlfriend anyway.

He wanted to try kissing her, to see what it felt like. He bet she would taste like cotton candy or something like that. He'd heard his dad tell his mom once that she tasted sweet. Maybe he would tell Beth that, to make her laugh like his mom had. Carl looked down at his hands, he wished Jimmy was still around, so he could ask him about kissing and sex and stuff like that. It kind of sucked being the only boy kid left sometimes. Maybe he could ask Glenn… or Daryl. Except, Daryl didn't really seem like the kissing kind. And Glenn, well, Glenn might tell Maggie.

"What are you thinking about, baby?"

He looked up to find his mom awake. She still looked tired, but she looked pretty, too. Carl shrugged. No way he was gonna tell her that he was thinking about kissing Beth. "Guns… and stuff," he lied.

"Would you get me some water, please?" she asked, reaching weakly for the bottle beside her bed. Instead of grabbing it her hand just kind of flopped against the mattress, looking like the pale belly of a dead fish.

Carl picked up the bottle, anything to avoid looking at her hand, dangling there like that. He held the bottle to her mouth and she drank from it, closing her eyes. "You look… pretty," he tested the words, frustrated when they came out all tangled and stale sounding.

His mom opened her eyes at that and she offered him a smile, pulling away from the water bottle. "You're lying," she sighed, but not in a sad way. Just kind of tired-like. She took another drink of water then turned her face away. "Thanks."

Carol put the bottle back down on the floor and reached for her hand. It was cold to the touch and it kind of gave him the creeps, so he quickly placed it on her stomach.

"You can tell me, you know," his mom said, her face tilted towards him. "Anything that you're thinking about. I won't get mad, and I won't make you feel bad about it."

He thought about asking her about kissing, but couldn't make himself. Not when she looked like that, with her dead fish hands and her head hanging like her neck was broke or somethin'. So he shrugged instead.

"Are you thinking about… before? In the boiler room?" She asked.

"Kind of," he lied. Seemed like lies were easier these days than the truth. "I guess." It wasn't really a total lie anyway. He had been thinking about that, a lot. Every time she winced, or moaned, or whimpered in her sleep. Like she was in pain all the time and that was his fault.

"What are you thinking about it?"

His hands flexed and he curled them into a ball. "I was supposed to put you down. And I didn't. I didn't do the right thing, but at the same time I did, 'cause well, you're alive," the words spilled out like marbles and as hard as he tried he could stop them. He couldn't gather them up and stuff them back in so he just let them keep coming. "But it could have been different. I keep thinkin' what if you came back, like as a Walker. And then dad found you. Or you hurt someone."

"Baby-," she started, but he cut her off.

"It was my job and I didn't do it 'cause I kept thinkin' about since the farm. The stuff I did and said to you. I knew it was hurting your feelings, but I couldn't stop." He shook his head, his heart thumping against the inside of his chest. "I couldn't. 'Cause I liked it. It made me feel… big." The last words seem to hang in the air and he felt like he could see them there before they crashed to the ground like a glass falling in slow motion.

His mom didn't say anything. She was just looking at him, her eyes red and watery and she looked kind of like she was going to puke.

"I'm sorry," he shook his head. His heart wasn't thumping anymore. It's like his whole body had stopped twisting and clenching for the first time in days. But he knew his own peace had come at a price, like everything did. And the cost had been her feelings, again. "You were wrong," he swallowed. "I'm not brave. And I'm not good."

Her voice shook when she spoke and she reached for him, her hand trembling, but finally alive-looking. "Come here," she placed her hand on his shoulder.

He could tell she was trying to pull him, but there wasn't really any force behind it. He couldn't deny her though, 'cause she was alive and she was giving him that look.

Carl was scared that he was hurting her when he climbed onto the bed beside her, but she didn't wince at all. He settled on the edge of the bed, his head resting against her side with her arm hugging him to her. He didn't mean to start crying, but he couldn't help it. Like his words before, his tears forced their way out before he could stop them. She felt so warm and soft and alive. And safe.

"My poor boy," she whispered, her fingers running through his hair. "You are good. You are brave. And you are strong," she told him, her voice hushed and convincing. "When we don't feel safe, we sometimes say and do the wrong thing. Hurtful things," she explained. "I think sometimes it's because it's the only way we can feel in control… or not be so alone." Her hand dropped to hug him again.

"Is that why you had sex with Shane?" He asked.

She tensed beneath him but didn't let him go. "Maybe," she finally answered, sniffling.

He wanted to tell her that she didn't have to tell him. Anything to make her stop crying, but he didn't say anything. He just listened. He wanted to hear.

"Everyone was gone. Our family, our friends… your dad…" She sounded so sad. "And it was like I couldn't feel anything except scared and sad, or numb. And I just… wanted to know that I was still capable of feeling something else." She swallowed so loud that he could hear it. "But it was wrong."

"Sex?" He asked, looking straight ahead at the wall.

She didn't answer him right away and he wondered if she had fallen back to sleep. He continued to look at the wall, reading the etchings of people's names.

Her voice was still soft when she spoke. "Sex can be a beautiful thing under the right circumstances. If you're both ready and you want to do it to show someone that you love them very much. But it can't be the only way you show them. There has to be more to it than that."

"Was there… more? With Shane? Like dad?"

"No," Lori shook her head. "And that hurt him. That hurt a lot of people."

Carl nodded, still not really sure what it all meant. But it was kind of cool that she was cool with talking about it. "Mom?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"How'd you know? What to say?"

She kissed the top of her head. "I'm your mom. It's my job."

She made it all sound so simple.

XXXX

"I'd gut'cha like a hog if my hands weren't tied," the man threatened, his voice gruff as he strained against the ropes that she had secured him with.

Michonne pushed the tip of her katana into the spot just below his shoulder blades, urging him forward. "Since I'm not the one with a sword about a second from meeting my lungs, you might want to shut up and walk."

He didn't say anything else as he trudged ahead of her, his hands wiggling as he worked to loosen his bonds. She split her attention between him and their surroundings. The woods were teaming with the dead and they couldn't afford to be caught off guard. Not with the condition her leg was in and the man's arms tied behind his back.

"You would think you'd be more grateful," she muttered. "Saved your life, you know."

"That so?" the man asked. "Seein' as how yer the one threaten'in' my lungs, n' all." He looked over his shoulder at her, showing off the nasty bruise that was forming on his temple.

Michonne shrugged. "Where's this prison of yours?" She asked, not seeing much of anything that suggested they were anywhere near anything at all. "You got food there? People? Weapons?"

"You got a name?" he asked. "Seein' how yer inviting yerself over. Don't you got no manners?"

Michonne snorted. "You an etiquette coach or somethin'?" She couldn't keep the sarcasm out of her voice. She liked this man and she didn't want to have to kill him. She just hoped that he went easy so she wouldn't have to take his head off. "What's yours?"

"Daryl," he answered.

She hesitated. "Michonne," she told him.

The strangers continued in silence until they reached a small hill that overlooked their destination.

"This the best way in?" She asked, eyeing the hill and the small creek at the bottom of it. It would be tough to get down it so she closed her hand around his arm to keep him steady as they descended the hill. They crossed the creek and Michonne kept a tight grip on his arm. They approached the fence and the dead who had gathered against it.

They turned as she approached and she felt Daryl tense. "Untie me," he ordered as the small group began to move towards them.

"Relax," Michonne moved in front of him, her katana ready. She took the first one's head off as soon as it was within reach and the second's hands in the same swoop. She kicked it in the chest to give her access to the next one who she sliced in half, leaving it in two symmetrical pieces on the ground at her feet.

"Badass," Daryl said from behind her. "Would get the job done faster if you'd-,"

"Does this look like a good time?" She asked, skewering a corpse as it lunged at her. The thing writhed on her blade, reaching for her. She pulled her knife free from her belt and jammed it in clean to the finger-guard. The knife was a lost cause so she left it there and used her foot to kick the carcass down.

Michonne let out a satisfied grunt and turned back to Daryl. "Distract me again and I'll cut your throat," she warned, grabbing him again. She shoved him toward a patched hole in the fence. Daryl went through the opening first and she closed it up again once she was inside.

"Threaten me again n' I'll grind you," he tossed back. He led her around the perimeter of the prison and they ducked through a gate that had been left unlocked. Michonne breathed a sigh of relief; the place looked secure enough. She was about to cut Daryl's bonds when she felt something hard and familiar press against the back of her head. The click of the hammer confirmed her suspicions; this wasn't the first time she'd had a gun held to her.

"Drop the sword and raise your hands," a male voice ordered. She did as she was told and released her weapon. It clattered to the ground at her feet and she sighed, raising her hands.

"'Bout time," Daryl grumbled. "Wanna give me a hand here?" He turned his back and a tall bald black man cut the bindings. With his hands free he took the knife and put it to her throat. "Yer lucky I'm in a good mood today," he stepped towards her so they were chest to chest, his breath hot on her face. "Next time you pull a weapon on me you'll end up like one of them Walkers back there."


	6. Chapter 6

Maggie was gripping Glenn's arm so tightly that her hand had begun to cramp. She looked to him, barely making out his features in the dark shadows of the ambulance cab. "Who was that guy?"

"That was Merle," Glenn answered, his voice hushed. "Daryl's brother."

She both literally and figuratively felt her jaw drop. She braced herself against the wall when they hit a nasty bump and sucked in a breath. The girl she'd taken on had done a number to her back ribs with her boot. Once they had moved to more steady terrain she leaned back in talk to her partner. "Well, I see the resemblance," she whispered.

"Daryl's come a long way since we met him," Glenn told her, reaching up to touch her cheek. "Are you okay?"

Maggie sighed. "For the sixth time, yes." She placed her hand on top of his and closed her eyes. "I just wish we knew where they were takin' us."

Glenn was still looking at her, his eyes burning with intensity. She knew that look. It meant he was evaluating, and that rarely worked out in her favour. "It scared me," he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her mouth. "When he had that… hand-knife thing to your throat. I didn't know what to do."

"I'm fine," she reassured him again.

His hand dropped into his lap. "It could have been different."

"He wants information on Daryl. He isn't going to kill us until we give it to him," she squeezed his hand again and looked to the front of the ambulance where Merle was behind the wheel, his knife glinting in the sun, still attached to his arm. She looked over the steel and window that was separating them from him and wondered if they would be able to smash it and overpower him without crashing the ambulance or alerting the other members of his group.

"Where was Daryl anyway?" Glenn asked, drawing her attention away from their captor.

Maggie shook her head. She had no idea. Wherever he was, he hadn't made it over the hood of the car he had been crouched behind. She wondered if he had seen his brother and chickened out. Internally she scoffed, Daryl Dixon laughed in the face of danger. She cringed at the cliché. Besides, he needed to be okay. They were counting on him to get help.

"I think we're slowing down," Glenn released her hand and moved to the back door to peer out the window.

Maggie twisted to look out the front. They had pulled up to a set of gates that were being opened manually by a couple of people. She noted the high walls, made by tires and overturned vehicles. "Looks like a big group," she informed Glenn. "And they seem to have things pretty locked down. It's gonna be hard to escape unnoticed."

The cab moved under her feet as Glenn shuffled into place behind her, his back pressed against hers as he peered through the window over her shoulder. "Jesus," he mumbled, looking around as they pulled through the gates. "What is this place and how did we miss it all winter?"

"I'm glad we did," she took in as much of their surroundings as possible. Suddenly the ambulance jerked hard to the right, causing them to lose their balance. They landed in a tangled heap on the far wall, Glenn's knee digging painfully into her already sore ribs.

The ambulance stopped just as they were getting their bearings, and they heard the driver's door open then slam. Merle's boots crunched against loose asphalt as he came around the vehicle. Maggie felt Glenn press something cold and hard into her hand. She looked down to find a 'U' shaped door handle with a screw jutting out of it. It looked about as harmless as a wooden cap-gun.

Glenn shrugged sheepishly at her expression. "I'm improvising." He looked around and picked up a ballpoint pen.

"Are you gonna write 'em a 'thank-you' note?" she tried to joke.

Her boyfriend's expression remained serious. "Maggie-," He was interrupted by the doors to the ambulance suddenly swinging open. He stepped in front of her protectively and held one hand up in a defensive position, ready to hold off an attack.

Maggie peered over Glenn's shoulder at the man who she had learned was the older Dixon. She shivered at the sight of his knife, glinting in the sun as he jutted at them, as silent warning for them to submit. Her fingers dug into Glenn's shoulder in fear, but she fought to keep her face passive. She felt her muscles tighten and she braced herself, ready to pounce when Glenn said the word.

Merle eyed her posture then met her eyes, his glinting with amusement. "You look like a caged pussy cat," he chuckled and motioned for them to climb out. "I hope you don't scratch… wouldn't wanna hav'ta de-claw ya."

Glenn moved first, bracing himself on the wall and walking forward. His other hand slipped the pen into the pocket of his jeans. "If you touch her…" he warned, taking her forearm to help her down from the bed of the ambulance.

"You'll do what?" Merle puffed up, stepping forward until his face was inches from Glenn's. "Well? You got somethin' to say, Gook?"

Glenn lifted his chin and didn't back down until Maggie closed her fingers around his bicep, tugging him back a little. He complied and backed away from the one-armed man who gave them a sinister smile.

"How's your daddy feel about you cross-breedin'?" Merle turned his attention to Maggie.

"Funny," she rolled her eyes. "Comin' from a corn-fed inbred."

Merle's jaw ticked, but he didn't say anything else. "This way," he jutted his chin toward a three storey brick building. They appeared to be in a back alley trapped between the makeshift wall that seemed to surround this place, and a row of buildings. Maggie moved first, still holding onto Glenn with on hand. She'd tucked the handle into the waistband of her pants and the nail was digging into her hip with every step. They rounded a corner and she froze- the sound of rasping breathing and growling filling her ears. She whipped her head around and located the direction of the sound. The Walkers were caged behind large wooden doors, their grey mottled arms reached for her through the slats.

"What the hell is this?" Maggie asked, taking a step back, even though she was well out of the Walker's reach.

Merle laughed, "Let's call it a Zoo… wanna pet 'em? Pretty girl?" He reached for her and she pulled back, narrowly missing his grasp.

Merle shoved Glenn forward then reached for her, this time catching her off guard. He wrapped his arm around her elbow and shoved her ahead of him.

The threesome entered a building through a steel delivery door and made their way down a darkened set of stairs into the basement. The room was constructed of concrete floors and cinderblocks. Maggie looked over the simple furnishings: an old steel desk, a wooden chair, and a table shoved up against the far wall. The humid air was stale and Maggie crossed her arms to wrap them around herself. The room gave her the creeps.

The other people from the failed ambush back on the highway were already waiting for them in the basement.

"Better tie Pussy up," Merle said. "And I mean the girl."

Merle opened one of the drawers on the desk and pulled out a length of rope. He tossed it to the girl who had kicked her ass before.

The girl nodded and kept her knife in her hand as she took Maggie's arm.

As her hands were secured behind her back, Maggie watched Glenn being forced into a chair. Merle worked quickly, wrapping duct tape around his wrists to bind him to the chair. She looked around the room for any way that should be able to escape. She wasn't sure what Merle planned to do to her, but she assumed it wouldn't be pretty.

"I want some time alone with Glenn here," the Redneck said, leaning down to meet her boyfriends eyes. "Why don't you take the Farmer's Daughter into the other room? We'll save her for later."

The girl and another man took her by the arms and dragged her from the room. She looked over her shoulder in time to hear Merle begin his interrogation. "Now," he drawled. "Let's talk about what you know about my brother."

XXXX

Rick shoved the woman into the first cell in their block and slammed the bars behind her. She recovered quickly and rushed the bars, reaching for the sword that she had brought it with her. Oscar, who held the weapon in his hands, took a step back, holding it out of her reach.

"We don't take kindly to people who threaten ours," Rick told her coolly, his jaw ticking. He looked over to Daryl who had taken a seat on the steps while Carol saw to the gash on his head. He turned away from the sight and looked back to the stranger, his hands resting on his hips as he scuffled his feet thoughtfully. She was watching him, her eyes hard and black as coals and he felt torn.

He wanted to take out his gun and shoot her point blank. He didn't want to risk another Andrew. The group couldn't afford for him to make another mistake like that again. He looked to Lori's cell, just a few down from their prisoner's. It was his job to keep this group safe- his wife, Carl, and little Judith.

"I saw who took your friends- the girl, and the Asian boy," she finally spoke, her voice tight and low. "I know who it was…"

Rick listened without looking at her. "And so you thought… what?" He cocked his head, raising one eyebrow.

She looked down and moved away from the bars, limping heavily on her injured leg. "I can help you get them back. I know the way."

Rick set his jaw and nodded once before turning away from the cell. "Watch her," he told Axel and Oscar over his shoulder. "Closely."

"We'll have Hershel look at her leg when I get back," he decided. "I don't want him alone with her."

He stopped outside of Lori's cell and glanced over at Daryl who was busy getting his crossbow together and inventorying their weapons. They shared a silent moment that ended in an agreement. They would go after Maggie and Glenn, and they would take the woman with them. She was their best hope. Rick indicated her cell with his chin and raised an eyebrow. Daryl nodded.

If Daryl trusted her then he did too. He breathed a sigh of relief that they wouldn't have to kill her.

He wouldn't have to kill her.

Rick moved forward and entered Lori's cell. She was dozing, but blinked a few times when she saw him. She offered him a tired smile and looked down at their children: Carl tucked into her side and Judith on her chest- both apparently asleep. She wiggled the fingers on her hand that was draped over the son, inviting him over.

He cleared his throat and took the few steps over to the side of her bed. "Look's like you've got bed bugs," he joked lightly.

Lori's face lit up as they shared the memory of when Carl was a newborn. Lori, as a new mother, had been insistent that the baby sleep in their bed. Rick had been a junior deputy at the time and was working mostly nights. He'd come home in the early dawn and crawl into bed, usually still in his uniform and watch his family sleep. He'd referred to their son as their little bed bug.

He paused now, looking at the sleeping pre-teen and tried to remember the last time he'd referred to his son by his nickname. Not since before he had been shot… and not since he found them by the quarry outside of Atlanta all those months ago.

"She's such an easy baby," Lori murmured, her fingers stroking Judith's back. The baby fussed and craned her head, looking up at her mother before relaxing again. "… maybe if Carl had been this easy we'd've had another sooner."

Rick nodded and made a sound in the back of his throat, agreeing with her. He felt his heart swell at the little sounds she made and he took a seat next to his wife so he could watch the baby. She looked decidedly like a mix between him and Lori, though her genetics favoured her maternal offerings.

Mine.

His right hand joined Lori's on Judith's back while his left rested on Carl's side, over the boy's rib cage.

She was saying something else, but he couldn't seem to find his way back from where his thoughts were turning.

Lori was still so weak… and Hershel was recovering. He wouldn't be able to take on the other group on his own… but if he took Daryl and Oscar there would be no one left to protect his group. They were spread so thin as it was… they couldn't afford to lose Glenn and Maggie. And Hershel had done so much for them. He owed him at least an attempt to bring his daughter home.

Suddenly he noticed that Lori had gone quiet. His eyes flicked to her and she was giving him that look- like she could see right through him. Her hand shifted under his and she threaded their fingers, still watching him. Her eyes stayed locked on his, and when she opened her mouth to speak he released his hold on Carl and placed his hand on her cheek to silence her.

He couldn't hear any of her questions.

He didn't have any answers yet.

She watched him for another moment and then nodded, her eyes shimmering with tears, but still warm and full of understanding and something else.

Trust.

Rick leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her face away. He felt his heart jolt. Maybe he had read her wrong. His mind flashed back to the night on the road after the farm fell. Her look of horror as he told her what he had done to Shane. The way she'd pulled away from him.

But then she laughed softly. "My breath probably stinks," she mumbled, turning her face back to touch noses with him.

He breathed a sigh of relief and kissed her. Her mouth was soft and warm against his, and most of all familiar. A small smile formed and he pulled back to look at her.

XXXX

Rick had gone to talk to the woman. Lori wasn't even sure what she looked liked but she could hear her speaking with Rick and the others. Beth had taken the baby to give her a chance to rest, and Carl had gone with his father to participate in the meeting. Her bed felt empty without the kids, so despite her exhaustion she couldn't seem to drift off without them close.

She was supposed to be sleeping, but she couldn't help but eavesdrop on the conversation taking place in the main area of the cell-block. Their voices were hushed, so she couldn't hear the entire thing, just the main points- Something about a town, and a Governor, and Maggie and Glenn. They were planning a rescue mission, which Daryl and Rick would be heading up. Someone else volunteered, a man, and she assumed that it was one of the prisoners who had been in and out all day. She wasn't sure of the two prisoner's names, but she had seen them passing her cell, dressed in their blue jumpsuits. She wondered if they were official members of their group now.

The meeting broke up and she heard Rick tell Hershel to finish stitching up the woman's injury. Lori wondered if she had been bitten, but discarded the thought immediately. There was no way Rick would let someone in if they were a danger to the group.

Her husband appeared at the door a moment later and she tried to sit up more so that they could talk. She knew that look on his face; it was his leaving face. "So…" she breathed, offering him a watery smile, "you're going."

Instead of sitting on the chair beside the bed he eased himself onto the mattress beside her. He shuffled back against her pillow and slipped his arm around her, gently guiding her into his side. "I have to, for Maggie and Glenn, and Hershel… all of us. We can't afford to lose anyone else."

"I know," Lori nodded, wiping her eyes. "I know it's the right thing to do," she snuggled closer, ignoring the pain that the movement caused. "I'm trying hard to not be selfish and ask you to stay."

"It isn't selfish," Rick said confidently. "We almost lost each other and this feels like our second…. third chance," he reached for her hand.

Lori silently agreed, too choked up to answer him properly. He was right. She had survived against all odds, and that was a big good-luck payout. Eventually their account would dry… heck, they were probably already in overdraft. She wiped her eyes again but the tears were flowing faster than she could stem them. If she lost Rick it would be a death sentence for all of them. She couldn't keep Carl and Judith alive by herself.

But there would be no point in living in this world if they didn't do good and if they didn't do the right thing. They needed to create a world worth living in. She and Rick were responsible for teaching their children to be warm and caring and that meant putting it all on the line for the people they loved. Glenn and Maggie had done it hundreds of times for them. They did so every time they volunteered to back Rick in the thick of it.

Tilting her face upwards she captured his lips with her own. "You're a good man, Rick Grimes. And I love you."

"I love you too," he whispered and kissed her on the cheek then detangled himself from her and got out of the bed. He leaned in one final time to kiss her again before leaving the room.

Lori collapsed back into her pillows, allowing the tears and fear to flow from her. She stifled the sobs with her hand, not wanting anyone to see her break down. They all needed to be strong for Beth and Hershel.

Someone cleared their throat and she looked over to see Daryl in her doorway, his crossbow and a bag slung over his shoulder. She turned away to hide her tears and took a deep breath to compose herself, muttering an apology.

"S'all right," he said taking a step into the room. "I figured you'd be upset 'bout all this… I don't do tears too good but I wanted ta tell ya that I'll keep 'n eye on Rick out there."

Lori turned to look at the man who had once been so indifferent to all of them. He'd changed since Sophia had died, and especially over the winter. She offered him a tight smile and nodded, grateful for his compassion and dedication to them. Her palms pressed together and she held her fingers to her lips in an attempt to keep them from quivering. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice too high.

He accepted her thanks with a nod. "Take care of Lil' Asskicker," his voice took on a harder tone. "Better be in one piece when I get back," he warned. "Or I'll kick your ass."

Lori laughed and dropped her hands into her lap. "Promise."

Daryl turned around to leave. "Me too," he said over his shoulder then stepped out of the room.

Lori shook her head in disbelief, her heart feeling lighter. She trusted Daryl and Rick. She had to. She was counting on both of them to come back.

XXXX

Daryl left Lori's room and shook his head. Damn emotional woman, he groaned to himself. Rick hav'in to leave when she was still laid up, he felt bad for her, but he'd meant what he'd said about the baby. He needed her to be safe while he was gone, so he could teach her how to kick ass when he got back. If he got back. Michonne hadn't made this town of hers sound like they were going to a tea party.

He was surprised to see Carol with the baby- Judith, he shook his head at the name. His was better as far as he figured. He passed the pair without a word, ignoring Carol when she called after him. Carl was busy packing the trunk and he headed in that direction. Carol was quick though and she caught up with him. He pulled away from her hand when she touched his bicep.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" He barked taking a step back from her.

Her eyes widened for a moment, surprised, but then went back to normal when she scowled at him. "Daryl," she reached for his arm again. "Don't do this," she pleaded.

"Don't you see what I'm doin' right now?" He growled, feeling anger rise inside him. She was so fucking stupid sometimes that he wanted to shake her. "I'm leavin', and I might not come back. Best you just move on and get used to bein' by yerself. That's all you can count on 'til yer dead."

Carol shook her head. "You'll come back," she insisted.

Daryl scoffed and looked her up and down- acting like she was a damn gypsy or something. A fortune teller. "Forget about it," he ordered. "Forget about the whole damn thing. You, me, the damn guard tower… it weren't never a thing."

Asskicker started to fuss in her arms and Carol turned her attention to the baby, bouncing her. The baby was throwing one hell of a tantrum, her little back arching and her arms flailing, colliding with Carol's chest. He used the diversion as an opportunity to walk away from them. "Get'er inside or she'll have every damn Walker for a mile bangin' on the fence."

When he got to the car he tossed his bag in the back. Carl was sitting on the bumper, his held tilted down as he looked at his shoes. Daryl took a seat beside him, annoyed. Felt like he was getting to be their damn psychiatrist or something. They all needed to get their shit together. He'd tell them that- when he got back.

"Your momma could use your help," he told the boy, hitting the rim of his hat to push it up over his forehead, revealing his face. "Ain't no time to sit around sulkin' like you got the Clap or somethin'."

"The Clap?" Carl asked, looking up at him, his eyes squinting in the sunlight.

Daryl shoved the kid off the bumper and onto his feet. "Just get on with it," he grumbled. "You ain't got nothin' to worry about. I got your Pa's back. Now go see if Carol and yer Ma need anythin'."

He watched the boy shuffle away then turned to the trunk to make sure they had everything.

XXXXXX

Rick watched his son drag his feet as he walked across the yard to go back inside. He frowned at the boy's downturned head and the way he shoved his hands in his pockets. He whistled to get Carl's attention and closed the barrel of his gun before slipping it back into its holster. Carl changed directions and made his way over to him looking less melancholy, though his shoulders were still slumped.

Rick placed on arm on Carl's shoulder and walked him away from the rest of the group. When they reached a more private area he stooped down to meet the boy's eyes. "Carl, I want to thank you for what you did for us."

Confusion crept across the boy's face and he shook his head slightly. "I didn't-," he started, looking up at his father.

Rick took a deep breath. "I know if you thought there was no hope that you would have done it," he told his son. "And that's what a real leader does, Carl. It's not always about knowing which call to make, but also havin' a sense of the timing of it."

Carl's eyes drifted towards the ground and Rick watched the boy thinking over what his father was telling him. When his blue-grey eyes rose again to meet his father's matching ones Rick continued. "A good leader doesn't let the world destroy them. He keeps the hope alive inside himself," he reached down to press two fingers to his son's chest.

The boy nodded, his hand moving to rest over his heart where his father had just indicated.

Rick patted him on the shoulder then straightened up. "So, I thank you, Carl, for what you did for all of us." He took a step and dropped one hand to rest on the butt of his gun. "You're gonna be the man around here for a while. If anything happens, you lock everyone in the cells to keep them safe. Okay?"

Carl accepted the responsibility with a nod, "Okay, Dad."

"You be a good leader and trust yourself. Take care of your mom and baby sister for me," Rick touched the brim of his old hat before turning to walk away, leaving Carl standing on his own.

The others were already in the car waiting for him so he moved quickly to get in behind the wheel. With one last glance in the mirror he guided the car out of the prison.


	7. Chapter 7

After everyone had gone outside, leaving her alone to watch over Lori and Daddy, Beth slid down the wall beside the cell that Rick had used to hold the woman who would take them to Maggie and Glenn. Daddy had gone to his cell to rest for a bit and Beth told herself she would check on him in a few minutes, after she had had a chance to pull herself together. Maggie being taken had shaken him real bad and she knew that he'd want some time to be alone with his thoughts, and maybe with God. Daddy had always been a deeply religious man and a loyal servant to the Lord, but after everything that had happened he prayed less now. She hoped he was praying for Maggie now though, because at least someone would be.

Seemed every time she tried to talk to God now she got real mad inside. She couldn't understand why he would forsake them like this and punish them for the sins of others. Sometimes she wondered if she hated him for it. But she knew that it was wrong to hate God. He was their creator and he was testing their faith now. It would not do to waiver in their devotion to him.

But if she lost Maggie, she knew that she wouldn't have any faith left. She'd been running low for so long- Her lower lip quivered and she cupped her hands over her face to hide the tears when they came.

"Beth," a soft voice drifted from the cell down from where she was crouched. "Come here, honey."

She hesitated and then pushed herself to her feet, rubbing the tears from her cheeks. Lori was sitting up in bed with her legs draped over the side, her bare feet resting on the concrete floor. She was red-faced, her forehead glistening with sweat. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her abdomen and she was bent over, pain evident on her face.

"Come here," Lori opened her arms to her.

Beth went to her, still crying, and knelt down beside the older women, burying her face into her lap. She felt Lori's fingers smooth over her hair and she sniffled, shaking with emotion as the full intensity of her fear hit her hard.

"Shhhh," Lori soothed, stroking her hair. Her voice was soft but strong when she spoke. "Everything is going to be okay," she promised. "Maggie is so brave and strong. And Glenn is smart. They will get each other through this."

Beth listened to her words and felt anger rising in her chest. Not really aimed at Lori, but the whole situation was so unfair. How could God let them come so far and then have it end so cruelly? How could he not protect them? How come he always let the bad people in this world win? She snapped her head up and glared at Lori who looked surprised by her sudden change in position.

Lori reached for her but Beth didn't want to be comforted anymore. She wanted to be angry. At God for forsaking them, and Lori for having a baby and making them go look for supplies. And Maggie and Glenn for volunteering to go. Daryl for not bringing them back. Rick, for failing them over and over and over again. He said they would be safe at the prison, but they weren't safe anywhere. He'd lied to them.

"You don't know that," she bit out, getting to her feet. "You don't know what you're talking about. You didn't lose anyone. You don't know what it's like."

Turning her back on Lori she stalked out of the room, knocking over Lori's bedside table as she passed. She ignored the loud clattering as it smashed to the floor, scattering her medicine and medical supplies. She stomped her way up to her room, not caring if Daddy saw and was disappointed.

Fuck- she entered her cell and took deep gulping breaths, thinking the word over and over again in her mind until it wasn't enough. "Fuck," she tried out loud. "Fuck," she was shaking so hard and she slammed her hand down on the top bunk mattress. "Fuck everything."

The word felt so wrong when she heard it in her own voice, but it felt good to say it.

"Beth?"

She whipped around to see Carl standing in the doorway, his hat in his hands, concern etched across his face.

"This really isn't a good time, Carl," she told him collapsing onto her bed, her head resting on her pillow, her arms crossed over her face, blocking him out. He didn't say anything else, and she had assumed he'd left, but then she felt his hand rest on her knee. She used her hands to push herself into a sitting position and she glared at him.

"Leave me alone, Carl," she raised her voice, pushing him away. He stumbled, clearly caught off guard by her sudden outburst.

Once he had found his footing again he pursed his lips and raised his chin. "I'm not leaving. You don't have to be alone." He took a step back in her direction. "I'll never leave you."

Launching herself to her feet she grabbed his arm roughly and pushed him out of her cell. "You're a kid, Carl," she pushed him onto the walkway. "You're just a stupid kid and you have NO idea what you're talking about!"

Using both her hands she used all of her strength to slam the cell door behind him then pulled the sheet that she had hung up for privacy. She pulled it closed, blocking out the site of Carl standing on the catwalk watching her, long faced.

Energy spent, she walked slowly back over to her bed and crawled into the bottom bunk. With the anger subsided there was only a hollow feeling left in her chest. She felt herself drifting back into the dark place that she had been in back at the farm after they'd put down her mother and all of the other Walker's in the barn.

Turning onto her stomach she closed her eyes and waited for sleep to come and chase away the fear and hurt.

XXXX

Carl went back to his cell to put his hat on his bed then headed back down to the main area of their cellblock. He hadn't checked in with Carol since Daryl had told him to, so he planned on doing that now. He had to be the man now and make sure that everyone was okay, especially Judith and his Mom- because he wasn't just a stupid kid. He narrowed his eyes at Beth's cell as he passed it on his way downstairs. He was old enough to carry a gun and help his Dad keep the prison safe. He was old enough to shoot his mom if he'd had to… What had Beth ever done to be so "mature"?

As he went down the stairs he sighed on the inside. He wanted to be mad at Beth for what she had said, but he felt pretty bad for her too, since Maggie was missing. He remembered the time he told Carol that heaven wasn't real, and that she was stupid for believing it. He hadn't meant what he said, he was just so sad that Sophia was gone and angry for some reason. So he'd said mean things to her, and it had made him feel a little bit better. That's probably what Beth was doing now, so he would have to forgive her, like how Carol had forgiven him.

He found Carol was sitting on the floor in the room that was attached to their cell block, his little sister resting in her arms. Judith was still crying so he went over and sat cross-legged across from Carol, theirs knees touching. He watched for a few minutes, not sure if Carol wanted his help. Eventually she looked up at him, her face sad.

"She likes it when you hold her head up more," he offered and leaned forward to lift the baby's head so that she was curled up, her cheek resting on Carol's chest. "It's okay, Judith," he took her tiny hand in his and played with her fingers. He liked her hands the most; they were so cute. Judith had stopped crying he watched her yawn, her face going back to a more normal colour.

He sat back, still watching his baby sister. He liked to look at her, because she looked just like their mom. He had been worried he wouldn't like her- that he wouldn't like being an older brother. But he loved her, a lot. And he wanted to keep her safe and teach her lots of cool things.

"Do you miss Sophia?" Carol asked him.

He looked up, surprised that she asked him that. She was looking at him without blinking and he felt a little bit awkward, but he nodded. "Yeah," he looked away from her. "She was my best friend…" Carl forced himself to meet Carol's eyes again. "Do you?"

Carol's eyes flooded with tears, but they didn't fall. "Of course," she answered. "She was my daughter." She looked down at the little girl in her arms. "She makes me miss her even more."

Carl looked up curiously. "Do you hate my mom? For having a baby?" He asked. Maybe she had been worried like he had about the baby. That it would make everything change. He couldn't look away from Carol now.

"I was jealous sometimes," she admitted, stroking Judith's cheek with her index finger. "I thought it was so unfair, that she got to keep two of you, and God took away my only little girl- but now," a smile warmed her face. "God, I love her," a tear rolled down her cheek and she leaned down to kiss Judith's forehead.

Carl watched them for a moment, thinking it was real nice to see Carol holding the baby. She was really good at it too, and he understood what she meant. "Were you mad that we didn't call her Sophia?" He asked.

Carol laughed and looked up at him. She reached over to pat his shoulder. "No," she shook her head, smiling with those tears still in her eyes. "No, I think it's good that she has her own identity."

"Are you sad? Because Daryl was mean to you?" Carl asked, folding his hands in his lap. He'd overheard their conversation outside while he was waiting by the car. He could tell Daryl had hurt her feelings. He wanted to tell her that Daryl was just an asshole sometimes, but he figured Carol already knew that, on account of them practically being best friends. Besides, everyone knew that he didn't really mean it. His mom said that Daryl just had a "complicated personality". Carl wasn't really sure what that meant, but it sounded like a good enough excuse to him. Besides, Daryl was good at tons of stuff, like hunting and shooting…

Carol stopped smiling and she went kind of stiff. "You ask too many questions," she told him, shaking her head.

Carl sighed. He knew that that meant that she was upset. "Beth was mean too," he confided, feeling sad all over again as he remembered how she had treated him. "I know how it feels," he confessed and reached forward to hold her Carol's hand. She didn't pull away, but she didn't look at him either, so they both just watched Judith sleep.

XXXXXX

Maggie was quivering against him, her arms wrapped tightly around him. She stayed quiet for a long time and Glenn spread his hands over her back to cover as much of her bare torso as possible. He wondered where her shirt was… he wouldn't allow himself to wonder why it wasn't on her.

He could feel her tears soaking into his shirt and he held her, his mind racing. They needed to escape before they were killed. And they needed to warn the others at the prison about this group.

They wouldn't be able to fight their way out, he was injured, and they didn't have any weapons. They would have to sneak somehow. He wondered what time it was, if they would be able to use to cover of darkness. His vision was cloudy though, with his busted eye and he was pretty sure he had a concussion.

"I-," Maggie started to speak but her throat caught on a sob and she buried her face into his shoulder again.

Glenn gave her a tight squeeze. "It's okay. You did what you had to. No one can blame you for that."

She nodded against him and shivered. He looked down at the skin on her back and traced the goosebumps that had risen over her flesh, sending a jolt straight through his heart. He kissed her forehead then guided her back a little. She resisted the distance and held onto him tighter. "Hey," he whispered, pushing her hair behind her ear. "It's okay," he tried to keep his voice assuring.

She still had tears shining in her eyes when she finally looked up at him. Her face twisted in agony as she inspected his injuries and she whimpered, reaching up to touch his eye with trembling fingers. "Where's all this blood commin' from?"

Glenn couldn't help but flinch, though he offered her a sheepish smile. "Guess I pissed him off," he joked, slipping his fingers under the hem of his shirt. He winced at the motion as he raised his arms, pulling the shirt over his head.

Merle had done a number on him and he hoped that he would get the chance to repay the favour one day. But first he would start with the asshole that had brought Maggie through. Glenn felt no guilt for the things that he planned to do to whoever that was.

Maggie protested wordlessly and reached out to stop his movements, but Glenn had already slid his arms free from his shirt. He cringed at the blood spilled down the front of it, knowing that she deserved better. But it couldn't be worse than leaving her feeling vulnerable and exposed.

Without asking her permission he lassoed her with the shirt and pulled it down to cover her, leaving his own chest bare.

"Thank you," she whispered, sliding her arms through the holes.

Glenn nodded and pushed her hair behind her ear again. He kissed her quickly and they shared a long look, drawing strength from one another. After a moment she set her mouth into a determined line and took a deep breath. He nodded, amazed and in love with her strength.

Glenn took her hand in his and they moved together to begin exploring their surroundings.

XXXX

It felt good to be sitting up and seeing clear signs that she was making progress in her recovery. Although the infection hadn't cleared up and she still felt like she'd been stabbed- which she had been, essentially- Lori could feel her strength returning. She knew that she would need to get on her feet as quickly as possible in order to pull her own weight in the group. With half of them gone she couldn't leave everything to Carol, and be a burden to her on top of that.

The baby beside her cooed softly and Lori turned to the infant. "One second. Mommy is just getting set up," she stroked the milky soft skin of Judith's chest. The baby's arms flailed with undeveloped coordination, colliding with her mother's wrist. "We're going to get you all clean…" Lori took her daughter's tiny fist in her fingers and opened it to inspect her tiny hands. Judith was awake, peering up at her mother with a serious expression on her face.

Lori tore her eyes away and turned to the table before her. She picked up one of the towels that Carol had brought in. They were still stained a rust colour from when they had been used for Hershel's leg, though Carol assured her they had been bleached. Lori left the towel folded in half to act as a pad and then lifted the baby. "Ouch," she muttered, taking a deep breath. The pain from her incision hadn't lessened much, but she pushed through it, determined to take care of her new daughter. She laid Judith down on the towel carefully and secured her with her hand.

Judith fussed, scrunching her face up. "Shhh," Lori comforted the infant by rubbing her chest. "I'll just be a minute," she promised making quick work of taking off the baby's diaper, keeping her eyes trained on her face as she worked. With the little girl completely bare she fished a cloth out of a bucket of warm water and began to wash her, keeping her voice low and soothing as she reassured Judith by babbling nonsense.

"You're giving her a bath? Can I help?"

Lori looked up to see Carl coming into the room wearing his favourite science dog t-shirt. She was surprised it still fit him with how much he had grown over the last couple of months. "Sure you can," Lori offered him a warm smile when he came to stand across from her on the other side of the table. She was so proud of her son for how naturally he had adopted his role as an older brother. She had been worried that after thirteen years as an only child he would resent the baby. Maybe the circumstances of her birth had helped him adjust more quickly.

She watched her son as he stroked his sister's head, smoothing her feathery hair, a small smile playing on his lips. "Was I this small when I was a baby?" Carl asked.

"You were smaller," Lori answered. "You were born a little bit early," she explained. Carl had been one of the smallest of the babies in the nursery and had fit neatly into Rick's cupped hands when he was a newborn. She'd had a picture of them together like that, but it had been left behind at the farm with their other belongings. She sighed at the loss. It had been her favourite picture of her two guys.

Carl leaned over to inspect his sister closer muttering that her belly button was weird. He inspected the umbilical cord stump which had been tied off with some string. Lori watched his face, smiling. "It's kind of gross… when will it look normal?"

"Well… it will dry up like a scab and then fall off… then it will look like yours," Lori explained patiently, washing Judith's feet.

Carl made a disgusted sound. "I've seen Walkers less gross," he commented, leaning in to look even closer. Despite his words his face remained curious.

When he leaned in further Lori's eye caught on a flash of silver. She looked closer to see that a thin cord that had come loose from his neckline. "Baby? What's that?" She asked, nodding to the string.

Her son straightened up quickly and tucked it back into his shirt. "Nothing," he answered, shrugging.

Lori raised one eyebrow, imploring him to answer her question. She held his gaze and he returned her stare, his jaw setting stubbornly. Their stand-off didn't last very long before he gave in and his resolve crumbled, his shoulders slumping.

Sulking, he pulled out the cord to reveal her locket.

Lori was surprised and her own hand went to her throat; she hadn't even noticed it was missing.

"I took it… I'm sorry," he said regretfully. He moved to slip it over his head but was stopped by his mother's hand on his arm.

She held the baby in place and used her other arm to lightly pull him around the table. Once he was in reach she pulled him into a hug. "It's okay," she kissed the spot above his right ear. "Keep it," she told him, releasing him.

He raised his eyebrows, the locket closed in his fist. After a moment he nodded and returned to his spot on the other side other table next to Judith's head. "You've worn it my whole life," he said, playing with his sister's hand while Lori put on her diaper.

"That's because I've had it your whole life," she told him. "Your daddy gave it to me on the day you were born."

His eyes filled with wonder and questions but he didn't ask them. Instead he moved around the table to pass her a pink and white sleeper with feet that looked like ballerina slippers. She accepted it and started to work the baby into the outfit.

"She doesn't like getting dressed," Carl noted, scrunching his freckled nose when the baby wailed with displeasure.

Lori smiled and nodded as she made quick work of putting Judith's limbs through the right holes. She was surprised at how easily things were coming back to her even though it had been twelve years since she'd last had an infant.

"Thank you," Carl spoke up over the wailing. "For the locket," he filled in, stuffing his hands into his pocket. "I'll give it to her one day," he promised, stroking his sister's hair.

Lori lifted the crying baby to her chest, her hand moving in slow circles over Judith's back to comfort her. Lori shushed the baby, gently bouncing her. Carl watched them for a moment before picking up the bucket of water and slipping out of the room.

XXXX

The sound of rain echoed through the prison like water dripping in a tin can. Lori listened to the sound, staring at the top bunk in her hospital room. She was grateful for the downpour and felt hopeful that it would wash away the smell of death that permeated the prison yard. But she also worried about what it would mean for Rick and his rescue mission. She tried to hide it from the others but she was terrified that they wouldn't come back, though she knew she wasn't the only one.

A sense of premature despair had settled over the group left behind that seemed almost palpable. Beth still hadn't come out of her room, refusing to even speak to her father and they all worried that this would be a repeat of what had happened back at the farm. There was little Lori could do about it though, since she wasn't even sure she would be able to manage the stairs at this point.

She winced as Hershel cleaned her incision.

"Sorry," the old man drawled. He glanced up at her face and offered an apologetic look to match. "It's getting red around the stitching… it's a sign that the infection is getting worse, not better."

Lori nodded, turning to look back at the top bunk. Figured that she would live through the surgery against all odds and then die from an infection. Figured nothing would go right in this cruel world. Her eyes blurred with tears and the slats that supported the top bunk swam before her. She felt so ill and miserable, like she had when Shane had told her Rick was dead. The world had seemed so hopeless without him, and every second that went by where he wasn't there seemed to be another failing on her part.

She was supposed to keep him safe as much as he did her and their children. She was supposed to fight for him too. Instead she let him go out time and time again and put his life at risk. If he died and something happened to Judith or Carl as a consequence that would be on her too.

"We'll clean it more often," Hershel told her, reaching to take her hand. "And we'll increase your antibiotics."

Lori looked over at him and tilted her head, catching a flash of concern in his eyes. She took a breath to ask him what was wrong, but he silenced her by patting her hand. And then he released her and pulled himself up, using the top bunk as leverage. He reached for his crutches. "We'll get you on your feet today."

He ambled out of the room; he was surprisingly steady for someone who had had both his legs not too long ago. She watched him go, her hand drifting down to rest on the fresh bandages he had dressed her incision with. The disinfectant was still stinging and she laid back to close her eyes, pinching her brow.

A few moments later Carol came in, dressed in a fresh pair of clothes and her hair freshly trimmed. Lori shook her head forcing a smile. "You look good," she complimented the other woman, truly meaning it.

"It's the baby," Carol approached the side of the bed. "She's so beautiful, Lori… there's just something about new life that makes everything feel a little brighter."

Lori nodded in agreement, though she couldn't shake the melancholy that had settled over her. Carol seemed to spot it right away and the other woman took a seat beside her on the bed, her hand moving to rest on Lori's just as Hershel had done before. "You doing okay?" Carol asked.

Lori nodded, twisting her lips. When Carol didn't look away she felt her resolve weaken then crumble. "I'm just worried about Rick," she admitted, waving her hand in an attempt to be nonchalant.

Carol tilted her head, offering a sympathetic look but didn't say anything.

Lori smiled sadly, knowing that there was nothing the other woman could say. She couldn't promise Rick's safety, or that he would come back in one piece if he did at all. If there was one thing they had learned after all this time, after all the losses and the tragedies, it was that there were no guarantees in this world.

"Come on," Carol entwined their fingers and motioned towards the cell door. "You'll feel better… maybe we can even get you some fresh air."

"Ahh," Lori sighed, moving her legs over the side of the bed once Carol had gotten up. "The little things in life," she mused, bracing herself against the pain radiating from her abdomen. Carol slipped herself under Lori's arm and rose slowly, pulling Lori up with her. A small cry leaped from Lori's throat as her incision pulled. She turned her face, her forehead resting against Carol's cheek.

"Take your time," Carol said, supporting Lori's weight as the injured woman tried to find her feet underneath her.

Lori's legs trembled badly and she fanned her free hand over her incision. She felt like her stitches were straining against the weight of her insides as gravity pulled everything down. "Jesus," she muttered, bending over slightly at the waist.

"Do you need to stop?" Her human crutch started to guide her back towards the bed.

Lori resisted, releasing her hold on her abdomen then swiping away the sweat that had begun to build along her hairline. "No," she shook her head, reaching for the wall to further steady herself. "I can do this." Her voice held a determination that she herself doubted, but she ignored the niggling fear and discomfort.

She pushed herself to take one step, then another, promising herself that it wasn't much further to go. Lori set a goal for herself. She would make it to the stairs, and then she could sit and rest- or pass out, if the black dots dancing in her vision were any indication. Biting down on her lip, her chest heaved with each breath.

When they were halfway to the steps, Lori paused in front of a cell where Carl and Beth were sitting side by side, Judith sleeping in Beth's arms. Carl shot to his feet alarmed at the sight of his mother pale and trembling, barely on her feet. He took a step forward but was stopped when Beth rested a hand on his shoulder. He looked down to the blonde girl and she shook her head. His gaze darted back to his mother who offered him a weak smile.

Carl returned it then slowly sank down into his seat on the bunk. Lori gave him one last reassuring look before carrying on towards the steps. She glanced around the prison, and at a man she didn't know who was leaning against the wall. His blue jumpsuit gave him away as one of the prisoners whose life Rick had spared. She eyed him wearily as she was lowered into the second stair.

Lori looked around again, taking a deep breath. It felt good to see something other than the four walls of her cell. She looked at the windows, the rain splattering against the glass, then to Carol who was offering her a cup of water, her face radiating with joy.

Lori figured it must have been infectious because she smiled back with a throaty laugh. "That was great," she breathed. "But you might have to carry me back."


	8. Chapter 8

Carl leaned against the cinderblock wall and watched Beth rocking Judith. He'd found a pink pacifier in the yellow diaper bag that Daryl had brought back from the road on his first run. He'd cleaned it and presented it to the baby who was currently sucking on it, falling in and out of sleep, her hands curled on her chest. Carl looked up from his sister to Beth's face. She still hadn't talked to him or even looked at him since she had kicked him out of her cell before. But he was happy that she had come back downstairs so that he could see that she was okay. She'd always been so nice to him, so he'd been pretty bummed that she was mad at him.

He could tell that she was still worried about Maggie but at least she wasn't crying and yelling anymore.

Axel had come into the room to sit next to Beth and he was watching her too. Carl thought it was kind of weird that he was hanging out with them, but then again, Oscar was gone so maybe he was lonely. He'd been pretty helpful around the prison anyway, moving things around, helping find and stock supplies…

A shadow fell across the room and Carl looked over to see that Carol had stepped into the doorway. They grey-haired woman leaned against the bars with a towel twisted around her hands like a rope. She looked Axel over first for just second and then tilted her head as she looked down at Judith. One of her hands moved up to press against her heart and she smiled, shaking her head a little. She really liked the baby a lot, Carol could tell.

"You're good with her," Axel said to Beth, pulling Carl's attention back towards the bunk. "Do you have little sisters?"

Carl's eyes darted to the man's face. He didn't know why but he didn't like the way Axel sounded when he was talking to Beth. It was weird, like he was flirting really badly or something. Using his shoulders, Carol bumped himself away from the wall and took a step closer to the pair to make sure that the man knew that he was being watched.

Beth shook her head, looking at the baby in her arms.

She seemed kind of shy about talking to Axel, Carl thought. He looked at her face as her cheeks turned kind of pink and she giggled a little, but not a real laugh- more nervous.

It was true that she was really good at taking care of Judith. Carl hadn't really wondered how she had learned to take care of babies until now. Maybe it was from watching Hershel, Maggie and Daryl… maybe girls just knew what to do with babies. His mom seemed to, but she was a mom so that made sense. He remembered the first time he'd held his little sister. He hadn't been sure where to put his arms and he was scared that he would drop her, especially when she wiggled around when she was crying.

"How old are you?" Axel asked Beth, leaning in closer to look up at her down-turned face.

"Seventeen," she answered, her voice sounded high and she tucked her chin in closer to her chest, moving away from the man sitting beside her. Her pony-tail fell over her shoulder when she crouched down and the ends dangled just a few inches from Judith's face. The baby didn't seem to notice though 'cause she just kept sucking on the pink pacifier with her eyes half-closed.

Carl watched Beth crunch in on herself and she pulled the baby even closer to her. He wanted to ask her if she was okay but he wasn't sure if she was still mad at him. Plus, he wasn't sure if he should say anything in front of Axel. The man was giving him the creeps, and he could tell now that Beth was feeling the same way. The prisoner was probably just trying to be nice but he was weird. Like he liked her or something. But he was really old, so Carl didn't think that made much sense.

Carol cleared her throat and everyone turned in her direction, but she was looking at Axel, her body stiff and her arms crossed over her chest. She gestured over her shoulder using her chin and turned to lead the prisoner out of the room. Axel licked his lips and followed her out, clasping his hands behind his back.

Carl held back just a moment and then went to the doorway- he wanted to listen in. If Carol thought that there was something wrong then he did too and he wanted to have all the information in case he needed to make a decision.

The two adults stopped at the bottom of the stairs to talk, not far from where his mom was sitting on a chair opening cans of food. He craned his neck a little to look at her to make sure she was okay. She looked really tired and her face was real pale as she worked. Carl pursed his lips when she winced and fumbled with the can, her hand moving to press against her stomach. His body jerked to go to her but he held himself back. He wanted to hear what Carol was going to say to Axel and he wasn't sure if she would talk in front of him. Wrapping one hand around the cell door he divided his attention between his mom and the discussion.

His mom's dark eyes were watching Axel and Carol as she listened in on their conversation too.

He couldn't hear too clearly what they were saying, but Axel was saying something about Maggie and Glenn, and he heard his parent's names. His eyes flashed back to his mom when her face changed, like she was laughing on the inside. He smiled a little at her expression; it was nice to see her happy again. She had reacted to the word Lesbian and Carl squinted. He knew that the word meant, like Gay- but for girls. Carol wasn't gay he didn't think, because she used to be married to Ed.

Carol was shaking her head a little, her expression similar to his mom's.

Carl felt his mood darken though when Axel said something about Beth. He looked to his Mom to check her reaction and found that she had stopped smiling and was looking worried about something. She didn't seem to trust Axel either, but she didn't trust most people when she first met them, especially now a-days. He would talk to her later and tell her not to worry. He would take care of her and the rest of the group.

"Gross," Beth said from behind him and he turned around to see her using Judith's pajama's to clean white puke off the baby's chin. The pacifier has fallen to the floor at her feet so went over to the girls and picked it up. He inspected it and found that it didn't look too dirty. He wondered if he should wash it again before giving it back to her, but when Judith started to fuss he shrugged and wiped it off on his shirt before popping it back into her mouth.

"Thanks," Beth whispered, talking to him for the first time since she had come back downstairs.

Carl nodded and sat down beside her on the bed. Reaching forward he closed his hand around his sister's foot. When Beth didn't say anything else he looked up at her face. "Do you like me?" He asked, clearing his throat. He hadn't meant to say it so quietly but it's like he couldn't make his voice do what he wanted. His stomach kind of fluttered and he looked down at Judith because he couldn't look at Beth anymore without wanting to puke.

"Of course I like you," Beth answered.

Carl sighed. "No, I mean like me. Like, like, like," he clarified, stumbling over the words. He could feel his cheeks getting hot and he hoped that his face wasn't going red. He didn't want her to think he was a loser.

"You're kind of young, Carl," she told him, her fingers tracing Judith's almost invisible eyebrow.

His own brow pinched and he finally looked up at her, scowling. "Axel's a little old…" He said defensively. He felt mad that she kept saying stuff about how old he was.

Beth nodded. "And gross," she agreed, finally smiling at him, her blue eyes crinkled a little as she laughed. "Have you seen his moustache?"

Carl felt his body relax and his anger dulled a little, but he was still annoyed. "Do you think I'm a kid?"

Her smile didn't fade and he could tell she was trying to be nice to him, so they could be friends again. He knew she wasn't trying to hurt his feelings, but that kind of made it worse. Like he was teasing him or something. He continued to look at her, his expression serious as he waited for a real answer. Her smile didn't disappear all the way, but it shrunk a little. "Most of the time, no," she shook her head. "But sometimes yes," she admitted reaching over to rest her hand on his arm. "But that happens less and less… and I guess I like it when you act like a kid. I want to protect that part of you, Carl. Because you deserve to be a kid still."

"That's bullshit," he growled, pushing himself to his feet. He stalked across the room and leaned his back against the wall again, still facing him. "My Dad doesn't think so. And I'm the man here now," he argued, resting his hand on his gun. "I'm the leader; I take care of this place. I take care of the group."

Beth was quiet, her mouth a straight line. She looked at him, her eyes kind of sad. Finally she blinked and nodded a little, barely enough to move her head though. She offered him a tight smile and got to her feet, cradling the baby to her chest. "I should get her to Lori," she announced. "She's probably getting hungry."

Without saying anything else she left him alone, frowning to himself.

XXXX

Night had fallen around them as Rick and his group approached the walls of Woodbury. They crouched down behind and old clapped out car, Michonne bringing up the rear. Rick's eyes swept over the make-shift walls of the town and he couldn't help but feel mildly impressed by the construction work. He wondered how this Governor could have pulled something like this off without suffering mass casualties- they were a strong and well organized group, there was no doubting that.

"Damnit," he muttered.

Rick felt resentment towards this man whom he had not yet met. While he had been leading his group in circles all winter, starving and freezing with no shelter, there had been a little oasis in the middle of all of it. Maybe if he had been a stronger leader he could have created a place like his for his people- for Lori and Carl and little Judith. Then Hershel wouldn't have been bitten, T would still be alive… Lori wouldn't have given birth in the middle of a damn boiler room, sliced open like an animal and left to die.

Daryl and Oscar shifted behind him startling him out of his thoughts. "We need to downsize," he told them, already stripping off the weapons that would slow him down. There was no way they were getting over the wall loaded down. The other two men in their party of four didn't hesitate in sorting through their things to determine what would be the most necessary.

"Ain't no way we're gonna check in all them buildings," Daryl said. "I wonder how many guards there are…"

The sound of a snapping twig in the forest behind them startled the three men and they whipped around, weapons raised. They all breathed a collective sigh of relief when they saw Michonne emerge from behind a tree. She motioned for them to follow her, her finger placed over her lips, shushing them.

Rick took a deep breath. He was wound tighter than a three dollar watch… they all were. They needed to cool down before they screwed up. Daryl and Oscar were looking at him and he nodded. "Go ahead," he consented and they pushed off the ground to follow their guide.

Michonne moved confidently through the woods and it didn't take her long to lead them through a weak spot in the perimeter. They were barely on the other side of the fence before she made a hard right and led them into the doorway of a building. The streets of the town were dark and deserted so it wasn't hard to force the door without alerting anyone. It had only been boarded up partway and the group ducked easily under the slats.

"This is where you were held?" Rick asked Michonne, his eyes sweeping the long hallways that led into a larger room.

"I was questioned," Michonne clarified as the group fanned out to search the room.

Daryl moved smoothly towards the far wall to peer out one of the windows.

"Any other idea where they could be?" Rick took Daryl's lead and joined him at the windows where the other man had pulled back the curtain to peer out. The streets were lit by large fires that illuminated the darkness. He was surprised to find that there were still people around.

Daryl was thinking along the same lines. "I thought you said there was a curfew." The Redneck turned away from the window to give Michonne a slow burning look.

Michonne didn't back down and her voice rose an octave defensively. "The streets are packed during the day- those are stragglers," she informed them.

Rick kept his back to them as his eyes darted around the streets of the town. It seemed liked another world to him. People walkin' around like they didn't have their backs up… like they weren't afraid of what was just on the other side of the walls. "If anyone comes in here we're sitting ducks," he watched a couple stroll down the street, hand in hand. He could here their laughter drift through the night… like everything was… normal. "We've gotta move."

"They could be in his apartment," Michonne suggested.

Daryl released the curtain and stalked in her direction, his shoulders squared, ready to intimidate. "What if they ain't?!"

Rick moved with him, trying to push the image of the couple out of his mind. Maybe if they had found this place sooner that would be him and Lori. And Carl would be safely tucked in bed, not worried about scrounging around in kitchens for scraps of food…. How much ammunition they had left. Maybe they shouldn't be fighting this Governor, maybe they needed to find a way to make it work so they could stay. "You said you would help us," Rick accused Michonne, wondering if he was on the right side at all. The woman shifted her weight off her sore leg and his eyes darted to look at her torn pants and the blood still oozing into the fabric…

He gave his head a shake. The woman was a walking advertisement for why they couldn't be associated with this group. She was right, they were dangerous, and they still had Maggie and Glenn… Michonne answered but he brushed passed her, his mind racing- except maybe she wasn't. He'd done awful things to others to protect his people… from those men in the bar that night that Hershel had disappeared. From Randall- he'd given the boy a death sentence, had him tortured. And Sh-Shane- his lip curled at the thought of the man who had been his best friend. And he'd killed the prisoners, without a second thought. Maybe this Governor was only doing what he had to do to keep his own people safe. Maybe he wasn't so different from Rick at all.

He shook his head again and waited for Daryl and Oscar to join him closer to the door, out of Michonne's earshot. It didn't matter if he and the Governor were made from the same stalk- he needed to look out for his own people. And he would take down anyone that tried to mess with him, including the woman still standing on the other side of the room.

"If this goes south," he whispered to the two other men once they were crowded in close, "we're cutting her loose." Rick turned to look at Michonne.

"You think she's leading us into a trap?" Oscar asked.

Daryl looked sideways at the black man. "Right now it's the blind leadin' the blind," he observed, his eyes shifting back to Rick. "We'll split up."

He'd barely gotten the words out before there was a loud knock on the door. They all jumped in surprise and turned towards the sound just as the lock snapped open and a man stepped inside. Rick pushed Oscar and Daryl backwards until the three of them were concealed by a curtain that separated the room. He looked over to see Michonne duck underneath a table until she was concealed completely in the shadows.

The man announced that he knew they were there, but they held back until he was close enough for them to overpower him. The three men leapt out of their hiding place in one synchronized motion and cornered the man, Rick's gun pressed against his cheek. He ordered Daryl to bind the man's hands and they began their interrogation. The Woodbury resident denied knowing anything about Glenn and Maggie's whereabouts and thus proving himself useless was knocked out and dragged behind the curtain.

Rick took a deep breath and breathed a sigh of relief. They needed to hurry up and get their people so they could get out before anything else happened that they wouldn't be able to manage. He needed to get back to his family.

XXXX

Carl hung on the bars outside of his mother's cell and listened to Hershel's soft voice. He'd threaded his feet through the lower rung to use it as a step and then wrapped his arms around the highest row- like a monkey in a zoo. His Mom had gone back to lay down for a bit and had taken the baby with her to try to feed her. Judith had been fussy and kind of annoying all day. He knew she was just a baby and that it wasn't her fault, but he wished she would stop crying for, like, five minutes or something.

It had grown dark outside and he wished they could turn the generator on for a bit to get some real light… most of the time they just went to bed when it got dark, but they all wanted to wait up for the rest of the group to come back. He was pretty worried about his dad- and his mom too.

His mom wasn't feeling too good, so Hershel had gone in to check on her. He said she that had a fever from the infection and that she had overdone it through the day. She hadn't really done too much as all. Just cooked a little- and Carol had done most of it. He thought she was better, since she was out of bed.

The baby started to cry again so he pushed away from the bars and trudged over to the other side of the room to where Beth was sitting on the steps. She looked up at him from her lap where she was loading a clip with the last of their ammunition. She was wearing her pants rolled up to her knees and her boots weren't long enough to hide all of her skin… he wondered if it was as soft as it looked. "Hey," he greeted her, sitting down on the step beside her.

"Hey," she whispered back, looking back down to the bullets. "Is Lori okay?"

Carl shrugged, looking over at the blonde. She had her hair in a pony-tail and it looked really pretty. He wondered what it would feel like, too… nice, he would bet. "Are you still mad at me?" He asked.

Beth shook her head. "I wasn't mad at you, Carl. I'm just worried about Maggie and the others… I thought you were upset with me." She looked like she wanted to talk more about it, 'cause she took a breath and opened her mouth, but then they heard the sound of clicking and shuffling as her father made his way over to them.

"Lori and Judith are asleep," he announced. "Little one has a set of pipes on her."

Carl turned away from Beth to look at the old man. "Is she okay? My mom?"

"She needs antibiotics," Hershel told them, leaning against the railing. "Our supply won't hold out more than a week. And we need more antiseptic lotion and rubbing alcohol. "

He saw Beth turn to look at him out of the corner of his eye. "I'll go with Carol on a run at the end of the week," he sat up straighter, thinkin' on how he liked it that Hershel had told him about the problem. And that he was the one to decide what they'd do about it.

"Your Dad will be back by then," Beth said softly, her blue eyes searching his face. She was always trying to comfort him. He liked it, sort of, because of the way her voice sounded when she did it. But he knew this time that she was just trying to be nice and that she was probably wrong. His dad could be dead, and there wasn't enough time for them to sit around and pretend that that wasn't true.

"We don't know that," he sighed, turning to look at her. "Right now Mom is the only family Judith and me've got." He breathed out heavily and turned to Hershel who nodded just a little bit.

Suddenly the sound of a scream echoed through the prison, cutting into their conversation.

"What was that?" Beth asked, looking to her father.

"That was from inside," Hershel said meeting Carl's eyes.

Carl sat up even straighter. "Was that Carol?"

"She's outside, keeping watch in the guard tower with Axel," the old man shook his head.

Carl took the clip from Beth's hand and checked it over quickly to make sure that it was loaded properly.

"What if they came looking for something?" Beth's blue eyes had widened and her voice sounded nervous as she too started to pull herself forward. "What if they're in trouble?"

She and Hershel continued to talk while Carl snapped the clip into his gun, blocking them out. Excitement rushed through him and tingled in his finger tips; he was thrilled to finally be getting some action after all the babysitting and boring chores that he had been doing all day. He looked up in time to catch the end of Hershel's sentence.

"…tombs are filled with Walkers that wandered in from outside. Someone else could have done the same thing."

"I'm going," Carl turned around and picked up his silencer. He screwed it in place while he got to his feet. As he took a step forwarded he was suddenly gated in by Hershel's raised crutch.

"I can't let you go down there," Hershel told him, keeping his crutch firmly in place.

Carl tilted his face up. On the second step up he was almost at eye-level with the old man. "My father would go." He narrowed his eyes at Hershel, but only for a second. This wasn't a negotiation, and it was a debate. There was no challenge to be made, because he was going and that was that. It was his job to take care of the group now.

Hershel backed down and nodded, moving his crutch. As Carl darted down the stairs he felt pride swell in his chest. He'd won. They respected him as a leader. He jogged towards the gate but his stride was broken as he screeched to a halt when someone stepped in front of him. Surprised, he jumped back and looked up to meet his mother's eyes looking down at him.

She was wavering on her feet, like a tree in a windstorm, but she had on her mom face that almost had him backing up. Instead, though, he checked the clip on his gun and avoided looking at her.

"Move," he ordered, trying to take a step around her, pissed that she was trying to ruin this.

Instead of giving in she reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder. "You can't go down there. It isn't safe… you saw what happened. With Hershel… T-Dogg… me," she shook her head. "You aren't going alone."

Carl rolled his eyes. "I know what I'm doing."

Reaching up he shoved her hand away, but not too hard, 'cause he could tell that she was in a lot of pain.

"Carl-," she stepped in front of him again when he tried to move around her. "Stop."

"No, you stop!" He yelled, glaring at her. Her eyes widened a little, and he continued. "You died! You told me that I had to do the right thing. You told me that I had to take care of dad! You went away and now you're back and you think you can just tell me what to do again, like I'm some stupid baby." Reaching out he laid his hand on her forearm and pushed her out of the way, a little harder this time. He ignored her wince and her sad expression. "You died, and I grew up- and now you're trying to take it back. Well you can't, so back off!"

He stormed passed her and threw open the gate without giving her a second glance.

The halls were pitch black as he moved through them, his flashlight beam barely enough to cut the darkness. The screams continued and he followed them further into the tunnels of the prison, winding his way further and further into the maze. He recognized the area immediately though as his eyes swept over the partly open large steel door. The hair on the back of his neck rose as the screams echoed from inside the boiler room, sending a shiver down his spine.

Mom…

A louder scream followed by a man shouting snapped him out of it and he pushed forward and into the room.

XXXX

The sun was peeking up over the edge of the window and Lori looked towards Beth and Hershel in the new light. They were all exhausted, having not slept through the night. She'd slept for a couple of minutes earlier, but she'd been up since Carl had left. She worried the hem of her shirt between her fingers, her nails picking at the seams as her body throbbed with pain and anxiety. He'd been gone for a while and she was in the right mind to go look for him, which Hershel said put her in the wrong mind. And he wasn't wrong, not even a little bit, but she couldn't sit any longer just waiting.

It seemed that that's all she ever did. Wait for Rick to come back or to leave again- and now Carl.

His words had stung her deeply. It had taken everything in her to hold back the tears and her throat still ached with the effort. She thought things had changed, that they would go back to whatever accounted for normal these days, but maybe they hadn't. Maybe they were all too far gone now. If Carl still couldn't stand her, then maybe Rick would go back to hating her too. Maybe she'd been fooling herself and the damage was too deep. Maybe the last couple of days had been a honeymoon period before they all slipped back into reality and she wound up alone.

At that thought a tear finally broke free and slipped down her cheek. She turned her face quickly towards the barred windows to hide her surfacing emotions from Beth and Hershel. Dropping her chin, she rested her fevered cheek on her hand. After a moment she shook her head, scolding herself for being teary and emotional. Here Beth and Hershel were worried about Maggie, and Carl and Rick were gone, and she was crying because her feelings were hurt. Despite recognizing the pettiness of it, though, she was unable to stop the next tear from falling.

The sound of the heavy exterior door swinging open on squeaky hinges startled her and she pulled herself to her feet. The sudden change in position sent her head spinning and a wave of nausea swept over her. She gripped the handle tightly to steady herself. The large bang had woken the baby too and she looked to Hershel who was closest to the cell where her daughter had been sleeping. He held up a hand to assure her that he would take care of it and she nodded gratefully.

Lori could hear Carl's voice accompanied by others that she didn't recognize. She made her way slowly over to where Beth stood against the bars that separated them from the other room. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her son apparently unharmed. The room continued spinning as she felt lightheadedness creep over her she knew she had pushed herself hard today. She just needed to keep going for a little while and then she would rest. She noticed Beth looking at her and she offered the young woman an unintentionally wobbly smile. Reaching up she swiped at her eyes then turned back towards the commotion on the other side of the bars.

Carl had brought others with him: two men and two women- one of them apparently dead, her body laid on the cement floor, her eyes frozen open. Lori leaned against the bars next to Beth, watching her son as he stood with his gun raised over the motionless woman.

"No, I'll do it," a well-built black man said from a crouched position on the floor. "We take care of our own."

Carl nodded and turned away from the group of newcomers. He made his way towards herself and Beth, the large ring of keys hanging from his pants. Lori searched her son's expressionless features as she avoided looking at her. He slid one key into the lock and twisted it, snapping door open. He gave it a heavy push and she stepped to the side to avoid being hit. Beth had moved too, but she quickly stepped back into position next to Carl when he closed and locked the doors. Lori ached to reach out and touch him, but instead she closed her fingers around the bars and turned her eyes forward.

The young woman from the other group reacted immediately to the sound of the door closing and sprung to her feet. "Hey! What are you doing?" she demanded, charging towards them.

The other man looked over at them. "Kid- Did you just lock us in here?" He asked.

The girl looked between them, her eyes settling on Carl as she ordered him to open the door, her voice rising in anger.

Carl squared his shoulders and held the woman's eyes. "This room is secure. You'll be safe. You have food and water."

His voice held a confidence and determination that Lori had never heard before from him and he turned to look at him in surprise. He seemed so steady… almost like Rick. The idea brought a small smile to the corner of her mouth.

"Open this door," the woman ordered again, her voice dropping to convey an implicit threat.

"I can't," Carl said softly, and then looked to his mother for the first time since he had come back. His grey eyes flicked over her and his brow pinched, showing that he still was not pleased with her.

"Come on. We're not animals. HEY!" The girl closed her fists tightly around the door and rattled it, her voice shifting again to a begging tone.

Lori took a step back, worried that things would become violent. Something touched her hand and her eyes whipped down to see Carl's fingers sliding around her own. She stared at their twisted hands with wide eyes. His hand felt so firm and strong, but his skin was still baby-soft. Looking up she caught the small smile that he offered to her and she gave him one back, accepting his intended comfort.

"Sasha! Back away from the door. Let the man go." A deep voice cut through their moment and they both turned back towards the black man. Carl perked up again at the word man. "Look around you, it's the best we've had in weeks. His house. We've got other things to do…. We don't want any trouble."

Carl's grey-blue eyes showed his inner pride at the respect that he had earned. He nodded slightly, accepting what the other man had said.

"Shouldn't we help them?" Beth asked, her voice soft and timid.

"We did."

Lori felt the smile on her face fade away. She blinked rapidly to clear the black dots that were dancing in her vision, but they remained. She felt the strange sensation of the blood draining away from her face and she wavered on her feet. She reached out to grip the bars beside her, pulling her hand out of Carl's, but her fingers went straight through the bars as her fuzzy vision refused to lock on them.

She felt Carl's arms wrap around her waist, colliding with her incision and she jackknifed with the pain before everything went black.


	9. Chapter 9

Smoke clung heavily to the air around him, blocking his view of the main street of Woodbury. Most of the people who were defending it against his own group had become lost in the smoke as well, making him feel walled in. Rick glanced over his shoulder to see Maggie and Glenn use a vehicle as a booster so they could scramble over the fence and make their escape. The Asian man moved painfully slow as he struggled with his injuries. Once the couple cleared the wall, he would make his move to follow them, but first he would need to get Daryl who had gone rogue since finding out about Merle.

Rick's heart was pounding wildly in his chest as he scanned the street before him, and it seemed the harder he tried to calm his nerves so that he could form a cohesive plan, the more his brain felt scrambled. Maybe he'd inhaled too much smoke or something, but he couldn't seem to catch his breath long enough to form a rational thought that existed outside of a single one: he had to get back to Lori, Carl, and Judith. Part of him regretted leaving them at all, especially now that their plan to slip in and out had gone so awry.

He'd promised himself that he was going to get them all through this, but it felt like the Universe or God or whatever the hell was calling the shots had other ideas. His eyes flicked upwards towards the sky with a question that was answered by the thick smoke forming a wispy canopy that hid the stars. If there was a God, he had not come to this place for a long time.

Rick's head throbbed with exhaustion as he lowered his gaze hopelessly to earth to see a figure charging towards him through the breath of fog. He froze and his brain seemed to slow and speed up all at once as he tried to understand how he could be seeing what couldn't be possible. The ghost took form as it came closer, shifting into a man, an assault weapon held across his chest, his deadly eyes fixed on Rick's.

Shane.

The sound of a phone ringing cut through the town that had gone quiet around him. The jingling pulsed in his ears and it occurred to him that he must be dreaming again. Rick's eyes stayed glued to Shane as he fought the urge to collapse under the weight of his overwhelming confusion.

Is this real?

Rick's lip curled and he felt hatred course through him.

You think you can just come back here and destroy everything?

His eyes settled on the other man's chest as his weapon moved across it to settle into his side. A glint of silver caught his eye and Rick squinted to see it in the unstable light of the flames around them. The small heart-shaped locket glanced off Shane's chest with each undulating step he took, the silver catching the burning red and orange hues of the fire. Rick's own face twisted with the agony of knowing that Shane had torn apart some of the good in them away with him. He'd forced Rick's hand and forced him into a tyrant. From beyond the grave his best-friend had driven a wedge between himself and Lori, he'd turned him cold to her pain- she could have died knowing only his hatred and malice.

Shane's gun lit up his face as he flicked the trigger and Rick rose to his feet. He wouldn't allow this man to come back and take any more from them. He wouldn't lose Lori to him, or Carl, or Judith either. He'd kill Shane a thousand times to save her- to keep her.

The gun in his own hand recoiled as he pulled the trigger, aiming it high at the other man's throat. The bullet hit his target easily, causing Shane's body to reverse direction and fall backwards.

Still in disbelief Rick walked numbly over to the fallen man, his chest heaving as the adrenaline left his body, only to find that it wasn't Shane at all. His mind had created something that wasn't there at all, yet, it still felt so real.

The ringing had stopped and he lifted his head as the world snapped back into motion. He spotted Daryl ahead of him and he called out to him, trembling with confusion and shock. Daryl called something back, and though he could barely hear it over the roaring in his own ears, he interpreted the other man's lips.

-cover you.

Rick hesitated until his thoughts turned back to his family. He needed to get back to them. Daryl would come.

XXXX

The town around him was hidden behind a fog thick, enough that he felt like he was in his own world. He'd pulled away from Rick to push forward, even though he knew that he should be making his escape with the rest of the group. But he wasn't thinking rationally, and he accepted that- his brother had always had that affect on him. As a child he'd broken every rule for Merle: lied, cheated, stolen. Maybe it was because he was the only family he'd ever really had, as shitty a family as that was. Merle hadn't thrown much his way besides scraps to keep him coming back like a pathetic feral cat. But a shitty home and family was better than none as he'd learned during his time in the system before he got dumped up north with his grandparents.

The town around him was a full on war zone. People were firing at ghosts in the smoke, but not really sure what they were aiming for. Daryl knew what he was looking for though as he crouched down low to avoid having his brain splattered. He wasn't sure where he'd find his big brother in the chaos, but he knew that he couldn't walk away now. After a year of believing that he was dead- well, he still wasn't sure that he believed that he wasn't. His lifted his line of vision towards the edges of the roofs of the buildings lining the streets in order to orient himself, since he couldn't see anything at ground level.

Maybe he wasn't even sure that Merle was really alive, but if he was, he wasn't surprised that he'd fallen in with this bunch of assholes. Merle had always found his way into the rough crowd and it had never done him any good. The thing was, he fit in with them 'cause he could be a real shit-head at times. Daryl shook his head. But he was family, and you had to take care of your own.

Daryl glanced over his shoulder, he couldn't see Rick anymore. He figured they had already hopped the fence and he wondered if they were waiting for them on the other side. He wouldn't go so far as to say that he thought of the group as family, or that he was even fond of them, but he'd found a place with them. For the first time in his life he felt like he could contribute, like he was needed. They needed food and he could do that. He could be Rick's right arm too. His thoughts turned to Carol and he cringed at the shit he had said to her before he left. He'd meant it, sort of. It was true that they were all going to die at some point, and so they all needed to be ready to carry on without each other. But maybe that didn't mean that they couldn't find a kinship in the mean-time.

Daryl raised his weapon and pulled the trigger but the empty barrel gave only a dull click. Swearing under his breath, he tossed the weapon to his side. If he had anything between his ears it wouldn't have mattered that he was out because he should have been on the other side of the wall by now and long gone from this shithole. But, Merle had always had a way of getting him into shit. Like the time he'd bunked at Daryl's trailer and left a stash of cocaine for the parole officer to find. That stunt had gotten them both kicked off the pad and straight out of the park. He started to push himself to his feet so he could make a run for it.

Before he could even make it into semi-standing position, though, Daryl froze again as another memory came back to him: the time that Daryl had gotten himself in a jam at the bar. He'd hustled a game of pool and pissed off some of the guys. Before he'd known what happened he'd had a broken bottle at his throat. Merle'd jumped the table like some kind of a damn gymnast and clocked the guy. He hadn't hesitated in coming to Daryl's defence even though he'd roughed him up on the way home for being an idiot and getting them banned from the bar.

"Fuck," he muttered, reaching for his knife. He'd known all along he wasn't going anywhere without Merle. He moved to sprint forward while the path ahead of him was clear, but was stopped when strong arms closed around him from behind, putting him in a choke hold. He shook the person hard to loosen their hold until he felt the barrel of a still smoking gun press to the side of his head.

Panting for breath he raised his hands in surrender.

XXXX

Lori felt like she was being assaulted by her senses as she resurfaced into consciousness: the smell of cooking, the baby whimpering and the feeling of someone touching her, tugging at her clothing. She tried to push the hands away but her own were immediately secured at her sides as someone leaned over her, hushing her in the process. When her eyes opened her view was filled with a soiled neutral coloured shirt, its top button opened to reveal white chest hair.

"Hershel," she rasped, her throat painfully dry.

The man released his hold on her and dropped back heavily into his seat. "You've got to hold still, Lori," he patted the hand that was closest to him. "You're alright, but you need to take it easier."

The old man continued his work on her incision site, and the smell of rubbing alcohol became stronger in the room, overwhelming whatever food was being prepared in their small makeshift kitchen. Lori shifted uncomfortably at the stinging sensation and pressure that accompanied Hershel's work.

"What happened?" she asked, turning to look around the room in confusion. She remembered being with Beth and Carl, and there were newcomers… and she remembered feeling dizzy and then nothing. Her disorientation only increased when she tried to clear her mind, so she turned her thoughts to the present. "Carl? Is he alright?"

"Carl is fine," Hershel tore some fabric from a stark white sheet and laid it over her abdomen. "Worried about you, but he's keeping himself busy…" he finally looked up to meet her eyes. "Asserting himself where he can." His final words her accompanied by a wink.

Lori wasn't sure how to respond to his presumed chagrin. Her own doubt must have become evident on her face because he immediately rested his hand on her shoulder in a gesture of reassurance.

"I remember when my own were his age," Hershel drawled. "They like to take a running leap at boundaries." He chuckled at his memories, though Lori could sense some melancholy in his retrospect. She could relate to the bittersweet feeling that accompanied looking into the past at a life that had dissolved almost overnight. She missed the simplicity of the days gone by, the security that she had taken for granted; that she had never questioned.

She really missed movie nights with Rick, curled up with a cold beer and a bowl of buttery popcorn, their feet tangled up in the space between them as they leaned against opposite ends of the sofa. If he'd already seen the film he would spoil it by nudging her foot each time something interesting was about to happen. Then look over at her to watch her reaction.

Now, she smiled sadly at the memory. In the latter years of their marriage all these things that she had once found endearing had become ammo for arguments. She'd nag that it made her feel weird when he looked at her. That he always ruined the movie for her. By the end movie night became a warzone where the space between them because the battlefield that neither were willing to step out onto. Even to offer a white flag.

Lori closed her eyes and turned her face to the wall where she would be able to collect herself and reign in her turbulent emotions. "Baby hormones," she joked when Hershel squeezed her shoulder.

"You need to take it easier, Lori." Hershel's voice was firm. His cold hand rested against her forehead and then the back of her neck.

Lori laughed humourlessly. "This world isn't one that has much patience for those who can't keep up," she turned her head to look at him, catching his eye as it flicked down to the stump that had once been his leg. She felt her eyes widen as realization set in about what she had said. "I'm sorry, Hershel. That was-," her apology was cut short when he raised his hand to stop her.

The old man wore a knowing smile that crinkled the corners of his blue eyes. "Don't trouble yourself," he said. "I already know and I've accepted these are probably the last days of my life. I only hope that I can use them wisely."

Lori's protest was interrupted by the soft cry of her infant daughter. "She must be hungry," she started to push her self up, but was stopped by Hershel's hands.

"Hold your horses," he spoke softly, grabbing the pillows from the top bunk. He eased them behind her, propping her into a more upright position, though she was still inclined enough that her wound wasn't strained. Once she was settled he lifted Judith and passed her to her mother, averting his eyes politely as she positioned the baby.

Lori looked to the older man, still feeling guilty for what she'd said. She knew that one of her worst habits was letting her mouth run ahead of her brain. She turned her attention back to her baby; she loved these moments when she could just hold her and bond with her. She wondered how different the little girl's life would have been had she died in the boiler room. Who would hold her? Rock her?

By the time she looked up she realized that Hershel had slipped out of the room. She wondered how deeply she had been lost in thought to not hear him maneuvering awkwardly with his crutches.

"How's that, my sweet girl?" she stroked the baby's cheek with her index finger.

Lori had just transferred the baby to her shoulder when Carol came into her cell, a pile of fresh linens in her hands. They looked to be factory folded and fresh out of the packaging.

"Thought you might like some fresh bedding," Carol tilted her head, admiring the baby. "Oh, I could just squish her," she stepped further into the room to place the bedding on the top bunk.

"Do you want to burp her?" Lori offered, alternating between rubbing and patting Judith's back.

Carol nodded and took the baby from her mother.

"I was thinking…" Lori slowly eased her legs off the bed and got to her feet, using the bunk as a support railing. "Maybe it's time that I pick a cell for Rick and me- for when he gets back. Maybe we can push two bunks together… to give us some more space?" Her question came with an air of uncertainty. She wasn't even sure if her husband was ready to sleep with her again. And she also was wary of asking for so much help from the others when she was barely contributing to everyday chores.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," Carol agreed, moving her chin back to look at the baby's face. She cringed when her neck was splattered by milky spit-up.

Lori gave her a horrified look and reached to take her daughter back. Her advance was waved off by Carol who snagged a towel from the top bunk and started to clean herself up. "I've had one of these before," she chuckled softly. "It'll take more than that to scare me off."

"Where's Carl?" Lori asked, shuffling painfully around her friend, one hand holding the cotton material in place that Hershel had laid over her incision. It hadn't been taped or secured in place and she figured he was leaving the wound over to breathe.

Carol followed her out into the common area. "Outside." At Lori's alarmed expression she nodded towards the door that led to the overpass that connected their building with the adjacent one.

Lori breathed a sigh of relief. "You got her?" She asked, referring to her daughter.

The other woman nodded and headed towards the camping-stove where something was simmering in a pot. Lori left her and made her way outside to find her boy. He was where Carol had told her, sitting on the ground, his back against the fence outside as he looked out over the prison yard and the straggling Walkers that moved around within its fences.

"Hey," he looked her over when he heard the door open. "You look better," Carl commented, turning his eyes to look straight ahead again.

Lori nodded and made her way over to him. "C'mere," she beckoned to him, twitching her fingers to indicate that he should stand. When he did, she tucked the cloth into her pocket and pulled him into a hug. She removed his hat without releasing him and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "I love you, you know."

"I know," he assured her.

She sighed and turned her head so that her cheek rested where she had placed her kiss. "I'm sorry that things are hard between us right now. But I need you to know that I only ever want to keep you safe. I don't mean to make you think I don't respect you… I just- I'm your mom. It's my job to worry about you."

"You worry too much," he mumbled, wrapping his arms around her thin waist. "But… you're a good mom. So I guess I can suck it up." He pulled away and looked up at her, snagging his hat back. One of his eyebrows rose at the tears in her eyes. "You know that right? That you're a good mom?"

Lori swallowed hard and nodded, turning to look through the fence at the yard as she tried to bury her emotions.


	10. Chapter 10

Beth picked up Judith from the wooden crate next to Lori's bed, sharing a smile with the mother of the wailing infant. She settled the baby into the crook of her arm and fixed the soft yellow blanket that she had been wrapped in. "You hush now," she said firmly, embarrassed that the baby wasn't settling down. She looked to Lori to see her reaction, in case she thought that Beth was doing something wrong to her daughter. "Sorry," she apologized, biting her lower lip.

Lori's smile didn't dim as she sat up, wincing with the movement. "Don't be," she shrugged. "Babies cry." Her matter of fact tone relaxed the teenager who added a small bounce to her rocking motion.

"Maybe she is hungry," Beth suggested, starting to hand the baby to her mother- she paused when Lori moved to settle against the wall at the back of her bunk, her pretty features scrunched with the effort. "You okay?"

"I just fed her not too long ago," Lori's chin dipped. "She probably just wants to be snuggled," the mother indicated the baby with her hand that wasn't holding onto her week old incision. "See? You're a natural."

Beth looked down to the newborn who had settled against her and turned to jelly. Her little limbs had gone slack as she allowed herself to be draped across Beth's forearm. At the older woman's praise, the corners of her mouth turned upwards. She liked looking after the baby; it made her feel like she was really contributing to the group- like she finally had a purpose. She was especially proud that Lori thought that she was doing a good job. It had been a long time since she had had that kind of assurance. At the realization she felt a small twinge in her heart at the loss of her own mother.

"Do you think you could do me a favour, sweetie?" Lori asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

Beth stepped forward, eager and willing to help. She hadn't had much success becoming strong and skilled at fighting weapons like Maggie and Carol had. She could barely aim the little revolver that she had taken to carrying around. But when she was with Lori, she felt like she wasn't totally useless.

"Would you mind getting me one of those bottles that Daryl brought back? Are they washed?"

"We used them to feed the baby before you woke up," Beth explained, already heading towards the common area. "Be right back."

Beth took the few short steps that led her towards the other room where her father and Carl were speaking with the newcomers. She met eyes with Carl to make sure that it was safe for her to go in, especially with the baby. He responded by opening the bars for her to make her way through. She crossed the open area quickly, holding Judith close to her, carefully avoiding eye-contact with the strangers who were scattered around the room.

"How old is the baby?" Someone asked from over her shoulder just as she reached the table and began looking through the supplies for the bottle that Lori had requested. She could hear the person approaching her from behind and she stiffened a little. They hadn't had much luck with others and she felt wary of them. She scolded herself for being so timid- for not being brave and fearless like Maggie.

Her father answered the question, his slow drawl helping her to relax a little. "Barely even a week."

"To be honest we never thought we'd see another baby," the young woman's voice was heavy with awe and Beth smiled at the sound. It did feel odd to her still sometimes when she looked at the tiny girl's face and felt her fresh baby-soft skin. Lori had been right, the baby was just what they all needed to feel more hopeful. "She's beautiful."

The voice was directly behind her now, forcing Beth to meet the young woman's eyes. "Thanks," she answered shyly. It felt strange to be accepting a compliment for something that she had no part in.

"How are you feeling?"

At the question Beth felt her eyes widen. She glanced at her daddy, embarrassed that someone would think that she had… "She's not mine," she shook her head, her words coming out with an air of defensiveness. She looked to Carl next for a second to catch the teasing grin that split his features and she felt her cheeks flush red.

"Where is her mother?" The African American woman asked, her voice soft as she inspected the baby. Beth, still too flustered to formulate a ready answer hesitated as did the rest of the group- she wondered if for the same reason. "Sorry," the girl took a step back, her stiff posture clearly uncomfortable with her supposed revelation.

Beth shook her head again, finally taking her tongue back from the cat. "She's isn't-," her words trailed off and her brow furrowed as Carl's expression shifted and he dropped his head, hiding his face beneath the brim of his hat. "The woman before. That fainted? That's her. I should get back to her," Beth filled them in, heading towards the bars that would take her back to their row of cells and Lori.

"Is she alright?" She prodded further as Carl stepped over to unlock the doors, juggling the large ring of keys and his gun. Beth wished he wouldn't do that- he was going to take his own eye out one day… or worse.

Carl paused, meeting Beth's eyes. "For now," he answered, his voice steady as he held her concerned gaze. After a moment he broke eye-contact with her and proceeded to open the door for her.

"Was it a difficult birth?"

Her father turned to watch her as she slipped through the bars and waited for Carl to lock them behind her. "An emergency caesarean," he answered, tidying up the medical supplies on the desk before him.

Their discussion faded away as she made her way over to Lori's cell where she found her still leaning against the wall, her head dropped back to rest against the chipped concrete . Her eyes were closed and Beth felt a chill run through her as Carl's straight-faced declaration came back to her. "Lori?" She prodded.

Lori's green eyes opened and her face lifted into a smile when she accepted the extended bottle. "Thanks," she inspected the bottle for a moment as though considering it. When she lifted her eyes again Beth recognized her expression as one that was trying to buy time until she was alone.

"Oh! Do you want me to," Beth indicated over her shoulder with her thumb, already starting to turn to leave.

"You are welcome to stay if you want," Lori spoke up. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to, that's all. I am going to try to express some milk, to make it easier for feedings when I am not up to it."

Beth considered her options briefly before taking a small breath, taking a seat on the bunk beside Lori. She reminded herself that she was an adult now, and that she shouldn't feel embarrassed about breasts. Carol had helped Lori bathe… and Maggie had birthed the baby. There was no reason to be bashful. Trying to remain casual she concentrated on Judith and lifted the baby to her shoulder. She listened to Lori's clothes rustling and then curiousity overwhelmed her and she glanced up.

Lori caught her shift in gaze and looked up to meet her eyes. She chuckled softly and looked back down at her chest. "They're huge, I know."

Beth felt her cheeks flush and she quickly averted her gaze to the floor. "Does it hurt?" She cleared her throat and lifted her eyes again to look up and see Lori shake her head.

"It's uncomfortable, when the baby doesn't have much of an appetite and I get full," she explained softly, her voice holding a maturity and confidence that Beth wished that she could have. There was something… attractive about it. "This will help," Lori continued. "If I can figure out how to do it- where is Google when you need it?"

Beth laughed at the joke and turned more, swinging her legs around to cross them in front of her so that she was facing Lori. It was difficult with the baby but she managed to get comfortable. "What's it like to have a baby? Someone that is, like, part of you?"

Lori's eyebrows raised as she considered the question, when she raised her head her eyes were warm. "It's beautiful," she answered sincerely. "But it's scary too, because you want to keep them safe and protect them, but then they grow up and want to find their own way in the world and you have to let them go." She sighed heavily. "Sometimes long before you're ready to."

Beth listened to her words and thought about Carl and how much he had grown since she first met him all those months before. She had grown too, since her mother had died, but now she felt stuck. "I was going to have sex with Jimmy," she disclosed timidly, her voice shaking as she said the words out loud. "But we didn't… because I was scared of what God would think- that I would disappoint him, and daddy too. That I would go to Hell." She laughed nervously, resting her cheek against Judith's soft downy hair. "Guess that was silly, since we're already there."

Her confession hung between them and Beth wondered for a moment that she had said too much. That Lori wouldn't understand. She relaxed when Lori pulled her shirt closed and reached over to touch Beth's cheek with the hand that she had been using to hold the bottle. She could tell the older woman wanted to say something, but she was clearly at a loss for words. Her eyes were filled with understanding, though, and Beth recognized that there was no judgment there.

"Do you think Carl thinks that way?" Lori finally asked.

Beth shifted. "About sex?" She asked.

Lori dropped her hand and picked up the quarter-filled bottle again. "That he missed out? That there is nothing better coming?"

Feeling like a fish in a fishbowl Beth opened and closed her mouth while she searched for the right answer. Her father's voice over her shoulder interrupted their conversation and she breathed a grateful sigh. "I should go," she passed Judith to her mother and made her escape.

XXXX

Carl ran the butt of his gun over the cell bars as he walked along the upstairs row and headed back down to the perch where Carol was hanging laundry to dry. She seemed to be a weird mood since the group had left, and he kept catching her looking out the two story windows towards the edge of the yard. He figured she was worried about Daryl and the rest - they all were. They had been gone a really long time and he was starting to give up hope that they would be coming back.

Downstairs he heard Hershel ask Beth and Axel to get the shovels that Glenn had left by T's grave outside. Carl agreed that it would be a good idea for them to bury their woman before she started to stink. They were all pretty used to the smell of rotting corpses, but it had been kind of nice not having any in their cellblock.

As he descended the steps that took him onto the perch he caught Carol looking outside again. "Wanna take a walk?" he offered, stopping beside her. He peered over the edge of the washing bucket and scrunched his nose at the bloody dirty water that smelled like armpits. "Gross."

"Try being elbow deep in it," Carol looked over at him, offering him a teasing smile. Suddenly her hand shot up and she flicked droplets of the water at him.

Carl swiped at his face. "Disgusting," he muttered, but he couldn't help but laugh. "Maybe we can meet them at the gate and do a sweep of the perimeter while we are there."

Carol pulled a sleeveless shirt out of the water and squeezed it before tossing it over the railing to dry. He followed her, stopping to pick up the washing bucket on their way down the stairs. "Carl Grimes you are growing up just fine," she told him, squeezing his shoulders affectionately.

"Mom," he paused at the opening to her cell where she was feeding his sister, her fingers ticking the baby's feet to keep her from falling asleep. His mom had shown him that trick and he thought it was cute the way her little toes curled like a monkey. When he had her attention he continued to speak. "I'm going outside with Carol for a bit."

She nodded, offering him a small smile that showed that she was grateful that he had stopped by to let her know. He looked her over again, taking in her pale face and tired expression and then dropped his eyes to his feet. If his dad didn't come back they were - fucked . If anything happened he wouldn't be able to hold the place on his own with just Hershel and Axel.

"You need anything before I go?" Carl asked, taking a step into the cell, his head tilting as he inspected his baby sister. She seemed bigger already. "She's longer," Carl looked up to meet his mom's eyes. "And chubbier," he said the last part with a tiny smirk.

His mom laughed and squeezed one of the baby's squishy forearms. "They get like this for a bit just after they're born," she told him, her voice affectionate and amused. "You were a little porker at five-weeks-old," she laughed at Carl's offended expression. "I had to wear a sling to hold you up; my arms would get so tired."

Carl scoffed at her teasing. "That's so not true."

"It is," Lori nodded, still chuckling at his expense. "You were a cute baby. The cutest."

Instead of answering he turned his eyes back to the baby, just taking a moment to listen to the sound of his mother's laughter. He knew that all bets were off and maybe soon it would be time to say goodbye again.

Carl left her cell with those thoughts hanging heavily in his mind as he met up with Carol and they made their way outside to make sure that the yard was still secure. Out in the main area, just by the door, Tyrese and his people were wrapping the dead woman's body and preparing it to be buried. He looked at the young boy that they were with who was probably about Beth's age. He wondered if that was the woman's son, and if he was, had he been a good son to her? He wondered if the boy had regrets about things that he had said or done to her. How it felt to really never get the chance to change them.

Carl remembered reading books and watching cartoons where the good guy, or the bad guy went through something awful and then changed. They learned a lesson and became a better person. He thought maybe after everything that had happened with his mom that he would be changed too. Like he would evolve or something, kind of like a Pokémon. Except that he didn't feel much different at all. Instead he just kept making the same mistakes and doing the same wrong things over and over again.

Maybe he was just a piece of shit son or stupid and couldn't learn. He sighed at that idea - that was just depressing to think about. Both of his parents deserved better than that. He needed to be better than that for Beth and Judith.

"What are you thinkin' about over there?" Carol asked as they reached the double gate. She turned to look at him, arms crossed and the sun glinting in her silver hair.

He shrugged and stepped around her to check that the gate was still chained. "Nothin'." Over his shoulder he caught the furrow of her brow as she looked him over.

"Somethin' happen with your mom?" her shoes crunched on the ground as she made her way over to join him. They fell into step with one another and he shrugged again, because he wasn't really sure how to answer the question. Nothing had really happened today, no, but at the same time something had been happening for a long time and he wasn't sure if that counted.

Carol stopped to take a deep breath, her eyes closed as she tilted her face up to absorb the warm sunlight. After a moment she opened one grey eye to peer at him, her face lifted into a wry pixie-like smile. "It's so quiet," she commented, shaking her head at the thought. "It's easy to forget how loud the world used to be."

Carl turned to her, his interest peaking at her tone of voice. He could still remember the first time he met her - she was shy and scared all the time. Super quiet, especially around her mean ugly husband. Sophia had been the same way, but she hadn't had a chance to relax like Carol. She hadn't had a chance to learn that even though the world sucked, it was still kind of cool to be alive and trying new things. She hadn't gotten to really find a family with the rest of the group the way he had. It was weird to think that she would just be thirteen forever.

"I used to complain about it: traffic, cars," Carol's voice tilted. "Noise pollution," she punctuated the words with a small chuckle. "What I wouldn't give for the sweet sound of a… jumbo jet."

Carl looked at the ground, suddenly feeling guilty for thinking about Sophia and sad things again while Carol was trying to cheer him up and have a normal conversation. "It would be - be even sweeter if we were all on it," he added, cringing a little at the way his words caught awkwardly. He rolled his eyes at himself and wondered when he was going to stop being so weird and start being cool like his dad or Daryl. Hell, he would take Hershel at this point. The old man was kind of annoying, but at least he always had something to say and he could get it out without his voice breaking like a nerd.

Carol sighed softly and the mood between them shifted to a more serious one. He braced himself for what she would say before she even opened her mouth. "Your mom is proud of you," she told him, tilting her head down to meet his eyes.

Carl almost laughed at the idea. People kept saying it, so it was either true or total bullshit. People always said things that they wanted to be true over and over again, like repeating it would somehow make it not a lie anymore. "For what?" he scoffed. "For being mean to her?"

"No," Carol shook her head. "You can't think about that."

"It's all I think about," he answered. Self-doubt flooded through him and made him want to walk away from her before she could see it. How could he not think about that when he could never get those months back? Sure he had a chance to change now and be better, but he couldn't just erase everything else. Life wasn't a computer that he could restart when shit got messed up.

"You have a second chance now," Carol patted his shoulder. "To start fresh."

Carl laughed and raised his eyes to meet hers. "No such thing as starting over. You just get to add more mistakes until someone dies and then you live with it-." His train of thought was disrupted by the sound of tires spinning on at the bent road ahead. "Please be them," he muttered, jogging over the fence to look out as far as he could see. When the green car appeared he felt his heart leap into his chest and he scrambled to unlock the gate.

The car passed him easily then stopped so his dad could climb out. Carl listened to him give orders to the people still inside as he waited on his toes for him to have a second. His dad looked over for the most part as he skidding over to him and he was suddenly pulled into a hug where wet kisses were pressed to his shoulder and then the side of his head. Carl finished the hug before wiping the slobber off his cheek.

"Where's Hershel?" his father asked, jumping back into business mode.

Carl answered, some of his excitement deflating. From the look on his father's and Carol's faces, it was easy to see that something had gone down. "In the cellblock," he answered quickly.

"Where's Daryl?" Carol asked, peering inside the car as he rolled out towards the prison building.

XXXX

As the three of them walked back to the prison, Carl took a peek at Carol who was under his dad's arm on the other side of himself. His dad's arm was draped over his shoulder too and he liked the heavy assurance of its weight. The woman looked so sad and it made Carl feel bad for her. He felt like he wanted to say something to her about Daryl not coming back, to make her feel better somehow, but he didn't really know what to say.

Instead he looked to his dad and waited for him to give her some comfort, but it didn't come. His dad looked worn out and beaten down as he trudged forward, like he didn't have any comfort at all to offer anyone else. Carl frowned at that thought. If his dad didn't even have anything to offer then how would he ever learn how to say the right thing?

Carl remembered when he was a kid and how he would play a board game called Snakes and Ladders with his mom. Every time he would make it up to the next level he would roll the dice the wrong way and end up all the way at the bottom again. He frowned and looked at his dusty shoes. Suddenly his dad's arm felt too heavy.


	11. Chapter 11

As Rick stepped away from his conversation with Hershel, he struggled to get a firm grip on his own emotions. He felt disoriented and exhausted after the events of the last week and his brain was on the verge of throwing in the towel. He strode through the prison quickly, ignoring the strangers who he had been made aware of - he didn't have it in him to deal with yet another complication after an already difficult day.

After losing Daryl and Oscar he felt a sense of hopelessness settle over him. They'd picked a fight with a heavily armed and clearly well organized group, and though they had come out on top this time he knew this would not be the last they heard from Woodbury or its Governor. Without Daryl they were one too many men down.

He entered their cell block in time to see Beth coming down the stairs, his little daughter in her arms. The baby cooed softly showing her contentment; she had been changed since he last saw her and she seemed bigger already, filling up Beth's arms. He wondered if Beth had been doing most of the work taking care of the new baby. A quick glance in the direction of Lori's cell confirmed that she was resting in the shadow-filled room. He could barely make out the shape of her pale hand draped over the side of the bed, unmoving.

Beth met him at the bottom of the stairs, a small smile playing on her lips as she presented him with Judith. "She kind has Lori's eyes, don't ya think?" the young woman asked, passing the baby over to him.

Rick accepted the infant who immediately began to fuss in his hands as he held her up to peer into her eyes. She'd barely had them open when he'd last seen her, so he hadn't had an opportunity to get a good look at them. Holding her at eye-level he squinted at her mossy green irises that were painted with a hint of brown around her pupils. Judith's light fussing turned to loud cries and she pitched forward toward his chest, her legs straining, unhappy with her dangling position.

Rick balanced her again and continued to look into her eyes as she scrunched her nose and wailed. Flipping her onto her back, he laid her on the crook of one of his bent arms, and then secured her in place with the other. Her wailing seemed to intensify, blocking out every other sound in the room, filling his ears with splitting intensity as a migraine crept around the back of his skull then up into his temples.

The feeling of hopelessness and fear gripped him again as he stared at her, at a loss for what he could possibly do for this tiny person who was dependent on him. What he could do for any of these people who looked to him to keep them safe. He hadn't been able to protect Jim, or Amy; Dale, Shane, Patricia, or Sophia, T-dog. He'd failed so many already… Lori, again and again in a million different ways.

The roaring of the baby in his ears stabbed his temple, blinding him and he looked up as a flash of white flickered in his periphery over Beth's shoulders. He traced the visage of flowing white silk for a split second before he blinked and it disappeared. Though it had gone from his sight he could still see it, burned into his retinas.

"That doesn't make sense," he muttered, his voice scratchy and barely above a whisper. He blinked again, the action bringing Beth's large concerned blue eyes into focus. He glanced at Carl next to him, then looked down at the wriggling baby in his arms. "Rick?" Beth asked, reaching out to lay her hand on the baby's tummy.

"I uhh…" he let her take Judith from him and his arms dropped heavily to his sides. "I guess I…" The platform behind her remained empty and he reached up to rub his itchy eyes.

"You look tired, Rick," Beth tilted her head. "I've got Judith," she offered him a warm smile.

Nodding, he patted the girl on the shoulder then turned to his son. Carl looked up at him expectantly, though Rick had nothing left to say to him. Reaching up he touched the boy's cheek, then stiffly walked away from the teenagers, ignoring the feeling of their eyes lingering on his back.

Lori's cell was filled with the sound of heavy but steady breathing. He hesitated in the doorway, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. The darkness eased the pulsing of his head to a small degree. Lori slept on her side, a book draped over her hip, the spine cracked to the page where she had left off - an old habit that was apparently dying hard. He stepped closer to her and picked up the book, an aged hardback with yellowed pages, its type-print smudged in the corners where thumbs had worn away the ink. The swirled goldleaf font on the cover weaved the name Edgar Allan Poe: A Collection. Rick turned the book over again and scanned the page that his wife had been reading: The Tell-Tale Heart. He snapped the covers together and tossed the book onto the top shelf.

Lori stirred in her sleep and pulled her outstretched arm towards her chest. Her eyelids flickered and he held his breath, watching her features twitch then relax again. She opened her eyes a moment later and took a deep breath, her hand moving to rest against her abdomen. "Rick?" she asked, lifting her head to look up at him. "Baby, you're back."

He nodded and toed his shoes off. His feet smelled almost as bad as his shirt; he hadn't bathed or changed his clothes in days. Lori didn't seem to notice as she reached for his hand and curled her fingers around his wrist. "Come," she whispered, tugging his hand ever so slightly.

Rick unbuttoned his shirt then pushed his off his shoulders and dropped it to the floor. He climbed over her, careful not to put any of his weight on her or move her too much in the process. When he settled behind her she found his hands and pulled them around her, pulling his chest to her back. He buried his face in the curve of her neck and breathed her in, her soft hair tickled his nose and he sighed.

"Maggie? Glenn?" Lori asked, turning her face to see him.

He nodded his answer to her inquiry and pressed a kiss to her shoulder, building up the courage to say the next part aloud. "We lost Oscar… and Daryl." Unable to look as her, he laid his forehead against her shoulder blade and continued. "We ran into Merle, he's alive. Daryl wouldn't come - I tried to convince him, but he wouldn't come back without his brother."

"I'm sure you did your absolute best," Lori whispered, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb.

He closed his eyes against her words. "Guess that just isn't good enough, huh."

"Baby, I wish I could share this burden with you. I wish I could take it all away and fix it," she kept her eyes forward and hugged his arms tighter.

Unable to formulate a response he stared unseeing at the freckles on her shoulder and he and listened to her soft breathing. He could feel her pulse beating under his fingers where they rested against the inside of her slim wrist. At the steady thrumming, his eyes began to drift closed as the world faded away, her pulse constant and hypnotic. He blinked slowly then forced his eyes open again - they were so heavy that he could barely lift them.

The small cell eased in and out of darkness. He was about to fall asleep when a flash of white crossed his blurred vision. His eyes shot open, jerking him into alertness. They darted around the room, searching for the figure that had disappeared. Heart hammering in his chest he climbed out of bed, his limbs trembling with fear.

He looked down at Lori, asleep on the bunk. His fingers twitched as his skin began to cool, no longer absorbing the heat of the slight throbbing of her heart rate. Though he couldn't feel it anymore the sound of it echoed in his ears, drumming…

Thud Thud Thud Thud

He covered his ears with his hands to block it out, but it was suddenly joined by Judith's piercing cries the sound of gunfire and a phone.

Ring Ring Ring

He shuddered and looked towards the large barred windows opposite the cell to see that it had become night. The figure stood there, cast in shadows, her long white dress touching the floor at his feet. He looked between her and Lori, who still slept peacefully on the bed.

"Rick," Hershel's voice startled him and he looked up at the old man standing in the doorway, propped up on his crutches. "Are you alright?"

Rick nodded, swallowing hard. The prison had gone quiet again aside from Lori's breathing and the gentle sounds of the group moving around in the other room.

"I need to check on the woman… Michonne," Hershel drawled, looking Rick over. "Thought you might like to be there for that."

No one had slept much after Rick's breakdown the night before. They had all retired to their respective cells, but there had been a distinct buzz in the block that made it clear that they were not sleeping. Lori wondered if they were afraid of him - if they thought he was so far gone that he would hurt them. Beth had filled her in on the events that had occurred after she'd fallen asleep. Based on the young woman's account it had had gone down pretty badly; she was surprised she had slept through it.

When the other's had emerged the next morning, bleary eyed and under-rested, they had split off to carry on with their designated chores. No one approached her husband who hadn't left the common area all night. She had tried to convince him to come to bed, but he had refused and ignored her, his eyes fixed, hard and expectantly just over her shoulder.

She sighed and closed her own tired eyes, hoping to rest them for a few moments and collect herself enough to tackle the day. She knew she needed to be strong for him - for everyone. "Come on, sweetie," she encouraged and repositioned her daughter on her breast. The baby fussed and arched her back, refusing to latch on. Lori knew that the baby was likely sensing her turbulent emotions and it was putting the tiny girl on edge. She tried to relax her muscles, but they remained tense and knotted and the baby kept fussing.

In the other room she heard Glenn announce that they needed to have a meeting to discuss their plan. Giving up on trying to get her cranky daughter to eat, Lori got to her feet and slipped out into the open area of the cell-block. She moved past the small cluster that was their group and entered the common room where Rick was still pacing, his hands clasped at the back of his head. He looked like a caged tiger and the sight struck fear in her heart.

Exhaustion pulled at her at the thought of even trying to engage him in discussion again, but she knew with a quick glance around the room that it would have to be her. "Rick, baby," she tried, keeping her voice soft so she wouldn't startle him.

"Get out," he ordered, keeping his back to her. He dropped his hands to his sides, his right one coming to rest on the butt of his gun.

Ignoring him, she continued to approach him, though she kept her distance as she rounded him to that she could see his face. He looked exhausted, and she wondered when the last time he had slept was. Dark circles bruised his eyes and he looked pale and sallow. "You look like shit," she told him bluntly, hoping to illicit some kind of a reaction.

Rick's lip curled at her statement and his chest heaved as he stalked away from her. Lori softened her voice and reached out to touch his arm. "Why don't you take her for a bit?" she offered, indicating their baby. "She's like aloe on a sunburn." Her joke fell flat and was met with resistance as he shrugged her off and held up his hands.

Without another word he left the room, banging the door behind him. Lori lowered her head and she shifted the baby onto her shoulder. The sound of something moving behind her caught her attention and she turned to find Hershel leaning heavily on his crutches, his face showing her that he had overheard their exchange.

"I know," Lori sighed, leaning against the table closest to her. "I'm an idiot for thinking a baby would fix my marriage," she rubbed her daughter's back affectionately. "I've seen enough talk shows - I ought to have known better."

The old man held her gaze for a moment. "Not everything is about you," he drawled slowly and Lori frowned at his accusation. "I apologize," he shook his head. "It's been a rough… year."

Lori nodded, accepting his apology at face value.

"You should put her down for a bit and rest," he turned to head back towards the cells. "You won't any get better if you don't give your body the time it needs to heal."

She nodded again, shifting the baby in her arms. "I know," looking down at Judith she sighed. "I guess I just feel guilty for doing so much resting when there is so much to be done around here… and with Rick," she motioned with her hand to the door where her husband had gone. "And Maggie and Glenn bein' taken, and Daryl gone," she took a steadying breath. "What are we going to do?"

Hershel's eyes remained on the exit where she had indicated. "Try again," he suggested softly. "That's all we can do."

XXXX

Rick slammed the heavy prison door behind him and stomped out onto the overpass. The fresh air and sun on his face felt good and he stopped to take a look around at the prison yard. The binoculars that he'd carried out with him were heavy in his hand as he lifted them to his eyes. He swept his enhanced gaze over Michonne and the over-turned bus, then over the grassy field. When he found the small plot that they had been using as a graveyard he stiffened.

Lori.

He shook his head to clear it and glanced back at the door that he had just come out from, towards the room where he had just left the real - the other Lori.

His feet felt unsteady underneath him as he dashed out to where he had seen her, his heart thudding in his chest. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders in feathery wisps that moved in the gentle breeze and his eyes drank in the details as he approached her.

As he reached the distance of a few feet from her he blinked and vanished from the spot where she had been standing. He stared at the sticks that had been tied together to form a cross and he wondered for a moment who the grave markings were there to represent. He hadn't attended any burials - he'd been… indisposed.

Pulling his eyes away from the graves he looked around for her again and then spotted her on the other side of the fence. Rick finally caught up with her just outside of the final perimeter and he slowed his jog. She stood looking down at the small stream, offering him a clear shot of her profile - her high cheekbones and the curve of her ear, lost in soft brown waves of hair.

She turned to him and reached out silently, her slender fingers curled slightly - nails polished and glimmering in the sun. He paused, his breath jamming in his lungs as he swept her perfect futures, she looked beautiful. And healthy. And peaceful.

His mind's eye turned back to the Lori in the prison, her pale features, flinching in pain with each movement. Her hair, stringy and dull, clinging to her ashen skin, void of colour and the lightness that he saw before him now - ethereal. Like an angel.

Her skin felt smooth against his rough cheek and he leaned into her touch, hungry for the affection she was offering to him. Tears licked the rims of his burning eyes like vinegar in an open wound. Maybe this was happening because she was supposed to be dead. They had saved her and maybe that had been the wrong thing.

Maybe this isn't a world for children anymore.

The memory of her voice startled him and he looked to her hazel eyes to see if she had spoken.

Why do we want Carl to live in this world? So that he can be hungry and scared… so that he can run and run?... If he dies tonight, it ends for him. Tell me why it would be better another way.

He could see her clearly, her arms wrapped around her thin frame, her cheeks flushed and shining with tears, her hip resting against the porch railing on Hershel's porch.

Maybe Jenner was right, she'd proposed, her voice breaking.

Do you think it would be better if we gave up?

Tell me why it would be better the other way.

Rick refocused on her face now and he felt his chest shudder and ache as though he had been punched. Looking over his shoulder his heart twisted and he returned her gaze to the woman before him who wasn't really there at all. Reaching up he touched her cheek and leaned in to kiss her, but before their lips could touch disappeared again.

The world swayed around him and he searched for her again. He needed to ask her why she was there... he needed her to tell him if he'd done the right thing.

XXXX

The others had collected in the common area of their cell-block to discuss how they would proceed in regards to Woodbury. She had declined to join them, saying that she needed some rest, which wasn't untrue – but what she really needed was some time to collect herself after her altercation with her husband. She had taken Hershel up on his suggestion and had tucked the baby into her make-shift crib in the corner of the cell, her own shirt strung up on some wire taped to the wall to block out the light. Through the gaps in the material she could see Judith's hand draped across her chest, tiny fingers twitching as she slept. Lori wondered what her daughter dreamed of now, and how long it would take for her dreams to be clouded by the nightmares that jolted the rest of the group out of their sleep most nights.

Lowering her chin, Lori pushed the loose strands of her hair behind her ears and turned back to the pair of T-Dog's pants that she was taking in and hemming for Hershel. She'd folded the right leg up and inwards to create a pouch to protect his still healing limb. She hoped that she had made it long enough and that he wouldn't take offense to her recycling their friend's clothes so soon after his death.

Glenn's raised voice caught her attention and she tuned into the conversation, curious about what had sparked a debate. Hershel responded, diplomatic but urgent, and Lori placed her sewing onto the floor and slowly pulled herself to her feet. She had barely made it to her cell-door when Maggie breezed passed her and stomped up the stairs, the young woman's back tense as she moved rigidly. Lori looked between Maggie's retreating form and the common area where it remained tense.

Deciding against getting involved with whatever was going on in the meeting, she glanced at her sleeping daughter one more time before pursuing Maggie. She took the stairs slowly, reminding herself to breathe with each step. The climb was excruciatingly slow, and she was more than a bit shaky when she finally reached the top, stomach aching and legs trembling beneath her. She kept her hand wrapped around the metal railing as she made her way toward Maggie and Glenn's cell. She paused in front of her son's and rolled her eyes at the site of dirty clothes sprawled across the floor and junk tossed onto the top bunk.

She made a mental note to stop by on her way back downstairs to collect the laundry. Her room that she shared with Carol was as tidy as she had last seen it; her own bed stripped bare, though a couple of articles of clothing that hadn't been modified to fit her pregnant belly were folded into a neat pile at the bottom. She eyed the jeans longingly – she never thought that she would be excited for the day that she would be able to fit into the raggedy kneed pair of pants again.

Springs creaking from the cell two down refocused her attention and she continued down the narrow walk to where the sound had come from. Lori hesitated outside for a moment before tapping her knuckles against the metal frame where the door would slide closed. Maggie didn't move from her position on the bed where she had curled up, her knees pressed hard into her chest, held in place by tan arms.

Lori frowned at the sight of the other woman, feeling a mixture of concern and curiousity. She and Maggie had had a rocky start to their relationship and Lori took full responsibility for it. After-all, it was her request for a favour that had led Glenn and Maggie to go into town to pick up supplies for her, resulting in their attack.

And now she owed a debt of gratitude again – if it weren't for Maggie her daughter wouldn't have survived her traumatic birth. She owed Maggie any comfort that she could provide… she just wasn't sure if it would be welcome, considering that it had been on her account that Glenn and Maggie had been taken most recently. If she hadn't needed antibiotics, they never would have been out there.

"Can I come in?" Lori asked, keeping her voice low.

Maggie barely spared her a glance before returning her eyes to the wall in front of her.

Taking her silence as consent, Lori stepped into the small cell and made her way over to the bunk. She hesitated again before easing herself down onto the mattress by Maggie's feet. Reaching over, she rested a steady - and what she hoped to be reassuring – hand on the curled woman's ankle. Maggie flinched at the touch, and Lori considered retreating, then discarded the thought, keeping her hand firmly in place. The storm brewing in Maggie's green eyes was a clear manifestation of her inner turmoil.

"We can talk about it if you want… or we can just sit," Lori watched Maggie's face for any indication that she was listening. "That's okay too," she added reassuringly.

Maggie's throat tightened as she swallowed. Her voice was hard when she spoke, "Talk about what?"

The shift in the woman's body language was subtle, but Lori caught the way she curled in more, closing herself off physically, protectively. "Anything that you need to, or want to," she ventured, flexing her fingers to give the ankle in her hand a gentle squeeze.

Maggie remained silent, her teeth pinching her lower lip, worrying it as she continued to gaze glassily at the wall across from her.

"You know, I," Lori paused, collecting herself. She wavered, unsure if she was making the wrong assumption, jumping to the wrong conclusion. "When we were at the CDC, before we found your farm… I remember feeling like things were finally going to be good again," she smiled in spite of herself, remembering the look on Carl's face when he and Sophia had discovered the games room, packed with toys and books. "We had food, and running hot water," she illustrated, delaying the inevitable part of the story that she hadn't ever spoken aloud.

"But then," she pursed her lips. "I was…" she searched for the words, feeling ashamed before they could even cross her lips. "Someone cornered me and… tried to force himself on me. I fought him off, but I can still feel his hands – clawing at me… at my thighs, my shorts…"

Maggie's breath hitched and Lori felt hot tears spring to her eyes, welling up but not falling, building until she could barely see anymore.

"Who?" Maggie asked, still hard.

Lori blinked once and a single tear trickled loose from the dam still in her eyes. She swiped at it with her free hand, unwilling to release her hold on Maggie. "It doesn't matter," she answered finally.

"Tell me who," Maggie demanded coldly. "Or I don't want to talk about this."

Nodding, Lori looked upwards at the seam where the wall met the ceiling. Anything to not be looking at Maggie. "Shane," she admitted, sputtering on the word. "It was Shane… He was drunk and confused and…" The stream of excuses died on her lips as she realized how hollow they sounded. She shook her head, dislodging more tears. "He thought he was entitled to something just because he wanted it and thought he had earned it."

Maggie nodded once. "But he didn't rape you," she croaked.

"No," Lori declared. "It didn't matter whether he did or he didn't… It didn't matter that I fought him off, or if he was sorry about what had happened," she cleared her throat, hoping to ease the tightness there. "I felt alone, like there was no one in the world who I could tell, who would understand. I felt like I would never be safe again."

The ankle beneath her hand shifted and Lori released her hold, keeping her eyes on the other woman's face as a mixture of emotions worked their way across her features: sadness, fear, anger, before they settled back into a blank canvas, void of any expression at all.

"Please just go away," Maggie muttered, turning her face into her pillow.

Lori conceded and got to her feet. "If you… you should get checked out, Maggie, if there was any… if he -, " she took a deep breath. "If there was any contact, you should get checked out. Carol or I could- we can help you."

Without waiting for a response she slipped outside onto the catwalk and waited until she was out of Maggie's view before pausing to catch her breath. She hadn't realized how hard her heart was hammering in her chest and leaned against the railing, eyes closed, to steady herself, gulping in air as the fought to tuck away the flurry of emotions inside of her.

When she reopened her eyes she stared out the large windows opposite her, breathing through nausea and fear. Glenn was coming up the stairs, and he met her eyes as he passed her, his expression so unlike the one that belonged to the quirky, awkward young man she had met almost a year before.

Turning to give the couple their privacy, she headed downstairs, Carl's messy room now an afterthought.

XXXX

Lori returned to the ground floor of the block, disappointed to find that Rick had yet to come back inside. She wished that he could see how much he needed to sleep and eat something. He'd always been one to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders; her own personal Atlas. His sense of personal responsibility had always been one of the things she admired most about him. Now, she worried that he would be crushed by it all, and that there was nothing she could do to save him.

Still feeling emotional from her conversation with Maggie, the tears came easily. She swiped at them with the back of her hand and looked around miserably, unsure of what she was supposed to do now. She looked to the washing station, where Carol would normally be scrubbing the skin off her knuckles in a bucket of filthy laundry… and she had no idea where her son had gotten off to.

Judith would need to be fed soon, she wouldn't sleep for more than another half-hour… she looked to Carol's work station again, wondering how she was holding up in the wake of Daryl's… betrayal? The word didn't feel right – she couldn't imagine that she would have done anything different in his shoes. Departure, she decided.

Lori wondered if she would tell Carol about what she had learned from Maggie in case she decided that she did indeed need some help, and then she vetoed the idea immediately.

It was hard enough experiencing what she had, Lori didn't want to lump a betrayal of confidentiality on top of it. She hoped Maggie would also feel the same sense of solidarity and keep Lori's disclosure to herself. The last thing she needed right now was Rick carrying the burden of that too – that one was hers to shoulder.

Footsteps sounded overhead and she followed Glenn's heavy movements as he descended the stairs. Based on his posture, she gleaned that his conversation with Maggie hadn't gone well. She sighed, it was hard to watch people dealing with rifts in such an already difficult time – you really didn't know when would be the last time… it seemed frivolous to waste even a second.

She and Rick had learned that the hard way – she sighed, or at least she thought they had.

Try again, she thought, remembering her conversation with Hershel. Grasping onto her determination she stopped by her cell to collect her daughter first.

She found Judith awake, unsuccessfully grasping at the pacifier attached to her sleeper, her small hands clumsily pushing it more than holding. Kneeling down so that she wouldn't have to bend, Lori picked up the baby, easing a carefully placed smile onto her lips. "Hi there," she cooed, setting Judith on the bed beside her before getting to her feet, unable to control the grunt of pain that escaped her as she stood.

"You alright?" Beth appeared at her side, her eyes conveying her concern. "You shouldn't – "

"Stand?" Lori let out a frustrated sigh. "Move? Breathe?" Closing her eyes she pressed two fingers to her temple where a dull headache was beginning. Taking a calming breath she patted Beth's hand that had wound its way into the side of her shirt. The girl's fingers relaxed and she withdrew her hand. "I'm sorry," Lori apologized on a long exhalation. She offered Beth a smile as a peace offering.

"Accepted," Beth brightened again. "Need anything? It's gettin' on dinner time and I was thinkin'…" she drawled, pushing the hair that had come loose from her ponytail back to secure it behind her ears.

"Nervous about somethin'?" Lori asked, eying the young girl as she eased Judith up to her chest.

The blonde teenager pursed her lips, then offered an embarrassed smile, her cheeks tingeing pink. "How did you-?" she shook her head. "I was wondering if I could have one of those bottles of milk… and borrow Judith for a bit."

Lori lifted one brow questioningly.

"I just thought that Maggie might, y'know, that it would be good for her to have someone to cuddle for a bit who doesn't ask questions." Her blue eyes fell to Judith. "It's probably stupid."

As the clumsy explanation fell from the girl's mouth, Lori listened, feeling her heart swell with love for Beth. Using one hand to secure her daughter, she closed her free arm around the teenage girl, pulling her into a hug that she hoped conveyed the true extent of her affection. "You're a good sister, Beth," she assured the girl in her arms.

Beth's arms weaved around Lori's frame and she tucked her head into the spot under her chin, her nose inches from Judith's. She held on, and Lori wondered how long the girl had been needing a solid hug.

"Thank you," Beth whispered, disengaging from the hug, though her hand lingered on Lori's back.

Lori transferred Judith to Beth's arms before giving each of the girls a quick kiss to the forehead. "Bottles are in the cooler… freshest one is at the front. The others will need to be dumped soon."

Beth nodded, "I'll take care of it," she promised, smiling softly as she left the room, tucking Judith's soother into her mouth.


	12. Chapter 12

"Baby? Have you seen your daddy?" Lori asked her son when she found him in the common area tying his shoe laces. She leaned against the table where he had his gun half-assembled before him, its clip resting almost at the edge. "Don't put your shoes on the seat," she clucked, eyeing the muddy soles of his boots.

"He's outside," Carl put his foot down obediently and examined the dirty seat. Shrugging he used his hand to sweep the dirt onto the floor, and then offered her a sheepish smile. "Sorry, mom," he muttered, reaching for his clip.

Lori caught it first and lifted it out of his reach. Turning it over in her hand she rolled her thumb over the first bullet. "You know what he's doin' out there?" Lifting her eyes, she met her son's.

Carl shrugged and eyed the clip, then sighed, shaking his head. "No," he answered earnestly. "But I think he's by the stream… maybe you could talk to him; he's kind of freakin' us all out."

Frowning, Lori reached out to tough the boy's cheek. "You know he wouldn't hurt you," she assured him, giving his ear a gentle tug.

"I know," Carl agreed, reaching for the clip in her hand. He plucked it free from her fingers and busied himself with reassembling his gun. "It's just that… Glenn said he's riding the crazytrain," he shrugged again.

"That isn't true," Lori interjected, frowning at the choice of words.

Carl rolled his eyes, sliding his weapon into its holster on his hip. "Yeah, it is, mom. You didn't see him last night. He was like some kind of… I don't know! Crazy person!"

Lori took a calming breath and reached out to slide her arm around her son's shoulders. Pulling him into her side she started a slow walk toward the door. "I'll take care of your dad," she promised. "I don't want you to worry."

When he didn't answer her she looked over to find his eyes fixed on the ground ahead of them, his expression torn. She gave him a squeeze and reached for his chin, turning his face upward to look at her. "I mean it, Carl. We're going to figure this out."

His nod was a hesitant one and she could tell that he didn't believe her, which only increased her determination. She and Rick - whether they were together or not – were still a team who desperately needed to get back on the same game-plan for the sake of their children.

Carl opened the door when they reached it, holding it open for Lori first. The day was brilliant and she sucked in the fresh air, feeling better already. Across the yard Glenn and Hershel were having a conversation by the pick-up truck and Lori knew instantly that it was one that she didn't want any part of. Moving slowly, she picked her way down the steps, Carl treading impatiently on her heels.

"You got somewhere to be?" she asked him, wincing as she reaching the bottom and lifted her hand to open the gate.

Carl stepped around her and used his shoulder to shove it open for her. "Nope," he lowered his face, hiding it under the brim of his hat. "Just sick of waiting for you, slow-poke."

"You little punk," she chuckled at his cheeky smile, hitting the brim of his hat to push it over his eyes. "Slowpoke," she mimicked, watching him dart away out into the yard. Still beaming, she wandered further out, past the furthest corner of the building, toward the fence. She paused, raising her hand to block the sun from her eyes as she looked for Rick.

The pick-up started up and she turned to find Glenn behind the wheel, guiding the large vehicle toward the gate where Carl was ready for him. Hershel, who was left standing in his wake, sighed, his chest heaving impatiently. She watched him for a moment as he searched the yard, then followed his fixed gaze out beyond the three rows of fencing to the small wooded area by the creek. A figure moved through the trees and she squinted, recognizing the shirt and familiar gait – Rick.

"Let's go for a walk," Hershel suggested, making his way over to her on his crutches. Lori nodded, her eyes still trained on her husband in the distance as he stalked the creek bed. The wind picked up slightly, tossing the litter in the yard up into the air behind her and she turned to inspect where the sound had come from.

Easing her arms around herself she shivered, inspecting the fences and gates, suddenly feeling vulnerable without the thick prison walls around her. She looked to the gate, beyond the overpass where the Walkers had come through just over a week ago, then to the door where she, Carl, and Maggie had sought refuge.

A calloused hand touched her shoulder, startling her from her thoughts and she took a step back, her eyes finding Hershel's.

"You're alright," he said, his voice soft and warm, coaxing her out of her troubled thoughts. "No one can hurt you here."

Lori nodded, taking a deep breath. She knew that her fears, though overwhelming, were unfounded. Hershel was right, the prison was safe, and they wouldn't still be there otherwise. She acknowledged the old man with a nod and allowed him to turn her toward the field.

The walk was slow with Hershel on crutches and her clinging to her incision, her hands pressing down in an attempt to ease the relentless pain that jarred her with each uneven step. They followed the perimeter of the fence, avoiding the overturned bus where the woman, Michonne, was sitting. Lori wondered what she was doing outside… or if she had a choice – maybe she wasn't welcome into the block.

When they were several feet away from the fence at the far end of the yard Hershel stopped walking. Pausing mid-step, Lori turned to him questioningly. He nodded toward the direction where they had seen Rick earlier, encouraging her to go on. She nodded and gave his forearm a gentle squeeze, allowing her hand to linger for the moment before leaving him to approach the fence.

She couldn't see Rick anymore, and she wondered if he had left. "Rick?" she called, feeling a nervous flutter in her chest. The woods were full of Walkers and she worried about him being on his own, especially in his current state. A movement caught her eye and she called his name again, sliding her fingers through the chain-link as she looked for him again. "Rick." He wasn't too deep into the woods, barely past the edge where the trees were relatively young and thin.

He appeared fully and paused at the foot of the bridge, his eyes fixed ahead of him.

"Will you come here for a sec?" she tried, trying to keep the waiver out of her voice as she inspected him. His hair was unwashed and drenched with sweat, his clothes too. She swept her gaze over his wane face – he looked sickly. "Just for a second."

He nodded, his eyes skimming the woods again before he turned to approach her slowly. She took a second to glance over her shoulder to see that Hershel hadn't abandoned her. The old man kept a quiet vigil exactly where she had left him. When she turned again she found that Rick had crossed the bridge to stand near the outer fence. He still wasn't looking at her, but she took it as a good sign that he was as close as he was.

"You doing alright?" she asked, forcing her voice to remain unconcerned; the last thing she wanted to do was scare him off by starting off too aggressively. When he didn't answer she tried again. "Baby, we're all worried about you. We need you."

Rick squinted in the sunlight, barely meeting her eyes for a moment before he was looking around again. "He send you?" he gestured over her shoulder at Hershel. "If he's so worried about it tell him to lead." His gestured turned to one of dismissal and he turned away to gaze at the woods again.

Lori worried that he might take off again and she leaned in, her sore abdomen pressed to the fence. "Is there something you need? What are you doing out here?" she asked, feeling a sense of urgency.

Rick didn't answer her at first, and when he did his voice was raw and exhausted to the point that she barely recognized it. "I- I've been…" he whispered, his eyes dazed. "I've got…" he seemed thoughtful, as though he wasn't quite sure what he was trying to say. "…stuff out here," he struggled, shifting from one foot to the other, and gestured to the woods. "…Stuff," he added quietly.

Lori rested her cheek against her right hand and blinked back tears. No wonder Carl was on edge about his father's behaviour… the dull look in his eyes and the absent tone in his voice was more than a little unsettling.

"How much longer do you need?" Hershel asked, easing his way over to her side.

Rick met the man's eyes then lowered his own to the ground. "I don't know," he shook his head slightly, his chest rising then deflating as his hand slid over his belt to rest on the butt of his gun – his eyes continuing to drift to look behind him at the woods. "I don't…"

"Is there anything I can help you with?" the old man asked from beside her. Lori kept her watery eyes fixed on her troubled husband as he shifted back and forth unsteadily on his feet. He had taken to not looking at her at all, as though she wasn't even there.

His blue eyes held Hershel's, focussing for the first time since she had come out here. He locked gazes and Lori could see his mind working as he weighed his options. Hershel turned to leave, and she released the fence, her hand darting out to bunch into his shirt fabric. He stopped just as Rick spoke, his voice slipping back into some semblance of the one that she was familiar with.

"I saw something," Rick announced, taking small steps toward the fence.

Hershel turned back to the fence and Lori uncoiled her fist as Rick stepped as close as he could with the chain-link barriers between them. "Lori," he admitted. "I saw L-," he quavered, his eyes settling on the ground again. "I'm seeing Lori," he admitted.

Lori felt her mouth part and her eyes widen. She looked to Hershel in confusion and he held up his hand.

"Lori's right here, Rick," Hershel corrected. "See?"

Rick shook his head, using one hand to scrub his eye. "I know," he agreed. "There's two of them. I know that it's not really her, the other one… or that it isn't real, but I," he shook his head. "It's gotta mean something. The dreams… the phone – Shane, in the town," he lifted his hand to slide it through a diamond-shaped link of fence. He kept his chin low as he spoke, his eyes fixed on Hershel's. "It's gotta mean something."

Lori's chest ached with all of the words jammed up inside her, held in place by the knot in her throat.

"There's an answer," Rick insisted. "It doesn't make sense, but in time… it will, it will make sense."

"Come on in," Hershel coached him soothingly. "You need rest." When Rick hesitated he continued, this time with a touch of force. "It's not safe out here."

Rick shook his head and stepped away. "I can't," he said decidedly, turning back towards the bridge. "I can't."

Lori watched him go, her thoughts a jumbled mess of concern and shock that seemed to cloud her ability to do anything at all. She felt her shoulders slump as she turned to Hershel, watching his face like she was underwater or a thousand miles away. "Bring him back," she pleaded, the words a vacant croak, forcing their way out through the pinhole opening in her too-tight throat. "Hersh-," she was startled by the thin wisp of a long-range weapon firing and she froze, her eyes darting toward the prison. Time seemed to move in slow motion as the air filled with several consecutive snaps of an automatic weapon behind her and she turned in time to see the bridge explode under Rick's feet as a string of holes appeared along its edge, splintering the wood.

She barely had time to respond before she and Hershel were under fire too, and then she was falling, shoved to the ground. Panicked, she broke her fall with her forearms, but it did little to stop the impact of her abdomen with the hilly soil, followed by excruciating pain. Crying out, she felt Hershel grasp the collar of her shirt and start to drag her, pulling the neckline up around her throat – out of panic she pushed his hand away and fought to catch her breath.

"I'm okay," she muttered, panting through the pain. She pushed herself to follow him as she crawled military-style into the longer grass where they would have some more coverage. Bullets narrowly missed her and she held her breath, her hand finding Hershel's as they both froze and waited.

Moving slowly, she moved her free hand underneath her to hold her abdomen. It felt spongy to the touch and she startled, quickly withdrawing her hand to inspect her fingers. Looking between the digits and Hershel she felt a strange sensation of cold seep over her as shock settled in at the sight of oozing red blood.

XXXX

Lori came to in the front seat of the pick-up where she was crammed in between Hershel and Glenn, the gear-stick digging into her thigh. She groaned, lifted one hand to block the pulsing light that was setting her eyes on fire. Disoriented, she lifted her head off Hershel's shoulder and looked around.

Lowering her hand she dropped it to her stomach, wincing at her saturated t-shirt. "Wha-," the cab dipped as it passed through the gates into the main part of the prison, jarring her. She hissed, sinking her teeth into her lower lip and reached out to grip Hershel's forearm.

He barely had time to respond before the car came to a stop and the door was yanked open by Maggie. Glenn and Michonne poured out of the vehicle, the latter making a beeline for the now closed gate. Hershel was slower, leaning heavily on his daughter as he got out. Lori stayed put, watching the father press a kiss to his daughter's cheek before she too made her way over to the group by the fence.

Easing her way out of the seat she was stopped by Hershel's hand on her shoulder, pressing her back into the seat. "You take your time," he insisted. "You probably burst a stitch. Let's take a look."

Lori nodded, and with Glenn's help lifted her legs out from the truck and leaned back on her hands, propping herself up. Hershel's fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt and lifted it, exposing the loose skin of her abdomen, like a deflated balloon, and the blood-soaked fabric of her bandage. She looked at Glenn first, embarrassed, but his expression remained grim.

The medical tape came off easily, already peeling away as the blood seeped through the adhesive. Hershel ticked at the sight of her incision and she turned to look too. She averted her eyes to the grey fabric ceiling of the car to avoid looking at her incision where the thread had torn away from the skin, leaving the open wound to give way to puckering fat.

"Gross," Glenn muttered under his breath.

Lori huffed and lowered her eyes to see him again. "Thanks," she snipped, reaching over to collect the discarded bandage off the dashboard. She recovered her wound and held the pad of gauze in place, acknowledging Glenn's apology with a simple nod.

"Rick?" she asked, sliding off the corner of the seat, her hand resting on Glenn's forearm to steady herself. His arm slipped around her waist to take the brunt of her weight.

"Holy shit! Did you get shot?" Carl jogged over to her, his wide eyes fixed on her abdomen.

"Carl Grimes don't make me get a bar of soap to wash your mouth out," she warned. "I can't believe you would even think about using that language in front of me… or anywhere," she continued. Releasing Glenn she took a step away to stand on her own, one hand resting on her hip. Carl slowed to a walk, his head ducked down to avoid her eyes.

He stopped in front of her. "I was ju-," he started.

"About to make an apology," Lori cut in, fighting to keep her tone firm.

Carl looked up, his eyes flashing with defiance. "I'm sorry," he ground out.

Lori turned back to Glenn, who slipped his hand around her waist again. "I don't believe you," she started back towards the stairs, already cringing at the thought of having to climb them. "We'll discuss this later."

Carl huffed and headed back towards the fence where the others were still gathered, waiting and watching the Walkers ambling around in the yard.

She caught Glenn looking at her from the corner of her eye and she kept her eyes forward, eyeing the stairs ahead of them. Lori took the first one and waivered, closing her eyes as the building swam. "Oh God," she mumbled, steadying her hand on the wall. "I need to be sick," she groaned, stomach churning. She gulped in fresh air, trying to quell the nausea that was overwhelming her senses and filling her mouth with saliva. Bending over she heaved once, and then again before acid rushed up her esophagus and out her mouth to splatter at her feet on the paved steps.

The rest of the world faded away and she screwed her eyes shut, sucking in air. When the imminent nausea passed she opened her eyes slowly. Glenn was still at her side, his expression panicked as he looked between her and someone behind her. Turning around she found the rest of the group crowded around the gate.

"I'm okay," she sputtered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She wasn't particularly embarrassed – they'd gone through a pregnancy with her and had all seen her vomit more than once.

"Dad told us to get inside," Carl was staring at a vomit at her feet, his eyes wide.

Lori nodded, scanning over the rest of the group. "Yeah," she agreed. "Just, uh," she turned back towards the door and held her breath, forcing herself to move towards it. "Just watch your step."

XXXX

Lori took her time settling down her daughter, who had been left inside on her own during the attack. They had come in to halls echoing with insistent cries and Lori had gone to her immediately while the others dispersed to their own cells for the night.

Hershel had come in, barely giving her enough time to get Judith back to sleep before he insisted on treating her incision. Now, lying on her bunk again, her daughter tucked into her side, she stared up at the bars, listening to Rick, Daryl and Merle debating. She couldn't make out exactly what the topic was, but she assumed it had something to do with where their new guest would be spending the night. Hershel worked quietly, clipping the remaining stitches to clean her incision.

The process wasn't comfortable for her, and with each wince or hiss that went unchecked he would glance over, offering her apologetic looks.

"It's not your fault," she told him the third time it happened. "Thanks for patching me up… must be gettin' sick of it by now," she returned her eyes to the rusted bars that held up the bunk above her.

Hershel hummed in response and Lori sighed. "Everyone's fine? They all seemed fine," she added, trying to fill the silence in an attempt to calm her frayed nerves. She felt edgy and trapped inside the prison. She wondered if they would decide to move on – and what they would do on the road with a newborn. Reaching down, she found Judith's soft cheek and stroked it, careful not to disturb her sleep.

"Axel's dead," Hershel told her, picking up his suture kit. His words were so matter of fact and blunt that it startled her. "I can't stitch this," he moved on. "I'll have to use surgical glue and butterfly closures."

"If it'll hold then you won't hear me complaining." She was grateful that she wouldn't have to endure being stitched up without even a local. Hershel continued to work in silence and she turned her attention to Judith again. The baby had woken up again and was squirming a little, Lori caught one pudgy ankle in her hand and held it in place. It was a difficult angle to get a good look at her, but Lori could see that Judith had her eyes open and was squinting back at her, her back arched, her hands bunched into tiny fists.

"You calm down there, sweetheart," she whispered, resting her hand over Judith's chest to keep her in place.

"Everything alright in here?" Rick asked as his shadow fell across the door. He leaned against the wall at the cell opening, his hand resting on his holster. His voice sounded strained, like he was speaking to a suspect or something – someone other than the woman he had been married to for more than a decade.

Lori lifted her head to squint at him in the growing shadows. "Yeah," she answered, laying her head back down on her pillow. "Just getting cleaned up…"

Rick blinked and took a step further into the cell, his eyes fixed on her abdomen. Lori watched him intently, trying to figure out where he was at mentally. He seemed more grounded than he had earlier outside. In fact, she would have believed none of it had happened at all if she didn't know better.

"I expect you'll be turnin' in yourself," Hershel spoke up, picking up a roll of gauze.

Rick's jaw ticked and he nodded. "I expect you're right. Just waiting on you finishing up."

"Almost done." Hershel cut a piece of medical tape and secured her bandage in place. Rick took a seat on the end of the bed, his head tilted to watch the baby, still squirming at her side. Reaching over he placed his hand over hers on Judith's ankle, then looked up to meet her gaze for a split second before he turned to see Hershel get to his feet.

Rick jumped up, but was waived off by Hershel who was securing his crutches under his arms.

"You're going to have to be careful, Lori," he instructed as he headed for the door.

Lori answered with a tight smile. "You bet," she promised. "Thanks."

When he was gone she turned to Rick who was standing next to the bed looking at the back wall of the cell. Reaching up, she caught his hand, making him jump.

"Sorry," she whispered her apology. "Sorry, baby," she repeated again, threading her fingers through his.

His face turned to her slowly, his features pulling into a grimace, but he was otherwise perfectly still. Lori tugged on his hand, urging him to join her in the bed. His eyes shot to the baby and she offered him a sheepish smile.

"I don't think I'm ready to let her go just yet," she admitted.

Rick nodded and bent down, leaning under the top bunk. His hands slid under Judith and he lifted her smoothly. He placed her in her box and turned back to the bed. Lori eyed him closely as he kneeled on the mattress and did the same thing with her, except that he relocated her closer to the wall. Surprised, she bit her lip and rested her hands on his shoulders to steady herself against his chest.

He pulled away and went back to the baby while she turned onto her side, bracing her hand against her incision, watching him curiously. He stripped down to his boxers and slipped his shirt off before scooping up their daughter and getting into the narrow bed beside her, Judith resting on his chest.

"You won't sleep well," Lori protested, moving closer to him despite the pain the motion caused. She settled into his side under his arm, her own moving around Judith to secure her in place. The baby slept deeply, her cheek pressed to Rick's chest like a cushion, her hand bunched up and half inside her mouth.

Rick grunted, closing his eyes, his hands pulling both Judith and Lori closer.

Lori watched him as he drifted off, the muscles in his face relaxing until his scowl was smoothed out. She sighed, happy to see him resting regardless of the day's events. It wasn't long before she fell asleep too.

XXXX

He'd volunteered to take the first watch – wasn't like he'd be able to sleep anyway with everything that'd gone down that day. They'd agreed that they would keep watch from inside. Figured it would be easier to alert the group that way if somethin' was happening. So he sat on the perch, his legs hanging over the grated sides, watching out the large windows.

It was peaceful outside… the moon had come up and was hangin' heavy in the night sky – bright enough to light up the whole cellblock and the yard. He could make out the black smudges that were Walkers stumbling around in the yard outside. They all knew more would come; before they knew it they'd have a whole herd on their hands, pushin' over the last fence that stood between the prison and outside world.

He'd always left cowardice to his daddy and Merle; Daryl'd never been the type to take off when shit got tough. He didn't really want to start now. The prison was as good a place as any for them and he didn't see much sense in givin' up over some pussy like The Governor. They'd made some kind of a – as fucked up as it sounded - home for themselves. They had food, shelter… more than they'd had all winter. They just needed to regroup and figure out a plan to kick Woodbury's ass. Hell, he'd do it himself if no one else was up for it.

Feeling restless, he got to his feet and stalked the distance of the perch, then headed down the stairs. The block was silent other than the sound of his own feet and Hershel snoring. Stretching out his arms, he arched his back and shuffled over to the other end of the cells to the entrance to the common room. He squinted, listening to the sound of Merle's heavy breathing in the other room.

The large space was barely lit at all so he couldn't see his brother. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the key that he had taken off the larger ring earlier that evening. Sure he was pissed at his brother, but no way in hell was he gonna give anyone else an all access pass to him. He turned the key over in his hand and slid it into the lock, trying to be as quiet as he could. The door squeaked as he opened it, but be committed to the motion, hoping to get it over with as fast as possible. Stepping into the common room he pushed the door shut but didn't bother locking it.

He slipped the key back into his pocket and headed toward the storage cage where Carol had made some sleeping arrangements for Merle. He found his brother on the thin cot, flipped over onto his back, struggling with his blankets. Daryl took a step back, holding his breath until he realized that Merle was asleep.

Daryl looked to the small table in the corner to his left and spotted the artificial limb, if you could call it that. Reaching out he touched the edge of the knife, feeling on edge.

The bed squeaked and he turned back toward his brother who had gone still, his blankets half tossed onto the floor. Merle lay on his back, one arm propped up under his head and the other hanging off the side of the cot. Daryl traced the limb down to where it ended prematurely, rounded out where a hand used to be.

He'd carried his brother's hand around in his pack, wrapped in a bandana until it had started to stink and Lori and Andrea had started to complain about the smell.

Moving slowly, his eyes trained on his brother's face, Daryl crouched down and snagged the corner of the fallen blanket and laid it over Merle before he retreated, quickly retracing his steps to go back to his watch.


	13. Chapter 13

Lori leaned against the stair railing next to where Hershel had taken a seat on the third step up. She kept her arms crossed carefully in front of her, biting her tongue as everyone else argued over what they would do next. She kept her eyes trained on Rick's tensed posture as he defended himself against the rest of the group: Hershel's accusations, Maggie's criticisms, and Carol and Beth's complaints. She watched him sink under the weight of it, his jaw ticking, his uneasy stance hardening, becoming defensive.

When Glenn jumped in on her husband's behalf she offered him an appreciative nod, grateful that someone was willing to stand behind the man who had put his life on the line for them time and time again. Her relief, however, was short-lived when Merle broke in from the other side of the bars where he had been locked out all night. She rolled her eyes at his sarcastic tone.

Closing her eyes, she lifted both hands to massage her temples to smooth away the headache that was forming there. Taking a deep breath she tried to block out the yelling match – Merle, then Maggie, Daryl chiming in from the upper level where he stalked back and forth.

"Get back here!" Hershel's voice bellowed, sounding through the room, echoing off the walls as he pushed himself up.

Lori cringed at the sudden explosion and opened her eyes to find Rick's back turned, his body frozen in mid-step as though he was a snapshot, captured in motion. He kept his back turned as he found his footing, his arms loose at his sides.

"You're slipping, Rick," the old man avowed, making his way over to where Rick has paused. "We've all seen it, we understand why – but now is not the time. You once said this is a democracy? Well now you have the own up to that. I put my family's lives in your hands," he asserted, stopping several feet back from the other man. "So get your head clear and do something," he demanded, his voice void of any patience or the understanding he professed to have.

Pushing herself away from the railing Lori cleared her throat. "I think that's enough," she insisted, mustering up her strength. Passing Hershel, she rested her hand on her husband's rigid arm. "Why don't you get some air," she suggested softly. "I'll be out in a bit."

Nodding stiffly, Rick pulled away from her and stalked out of the room.

Turning around to face Hershel she shook her head in disappointment. "You of all people should know better than to," she held up her hand as Maggie began to interject, successfully silencing the young woman. "You've had your say," she kept her index finger up as she spoke, holding the floor for herself.

Levelling her eyes on Hershel she took another step towards him, lowering her voice in an attempt to have some privacy despite their audience. "You have got to let up on him," she demanded firmly. "He's doing the best that he can, and if you want him to pull himself together you need to give him support," she shook her head, setting her jaw. "And stop questioning and criticizing him every step of the way – putting more pressure on him."

Without giving Hershel a chance to argue she turned away, ignoring Maggie's indignant expression. Sliding her eyes sideways she shot Merle a warning look and followed her husband's path around the back of the stairs to the second fire exit.

XXXX

When she stepped outside she could tell immediately that she had interrupted an intense conversation. Pausing underneath the roll-up door she inspected the scene before her: Carl, his hat in his hands, looking up at his father. With his back to her she was unable to see his face, and Rick's was unreadable.

Stepping out onto the covered cement loading dock she smoothed her hand over her son's hair and pulled him into a gentle hug before pushing him toward the door, her hand resting on the spot between his shoulder blades.

He glanced at his father once more before going inside.

Lori turned to Rick next and inspected him for a moment, his tanned arms resting on the slats of a warehouse pallet, his eyes turned outwards toward the woods. Running her teeth over her lower lip she followed his gaze, squinting in the morning sunlight at the yard. Walkers staggered around their lost acreage, groaning and growling. Her eyes fell on the delivery truck sitting in the middle of the field, its dropped gate hidden by the waist high grass. She hadn't been conscious during the event, but she was sure it must have been a sight…

Sighing at the fallen fence and the dwindling barriers between them and the outside world, she wondered if maybe Hershel and – God help them – Merle were right; maybe it was time for them to move on if it wasn't already too late.

Lori took a breath and made her way over to her husband, one arm sliding around his waist, her chest and stomach finding her back, curving into the contours of his body – snug like two matching puzzle pieces. She pressed a kiss to the shelf of his shoulder before resting her cheek on it, her unoccupied hand moving up to join his that held onto a pair of binoculars. Using her thumb, she stroked the length of the back of his hand, "What are you look for?"

Rick remained silent and still, his breaths long and slow, expanding his abdomen underneath her hand.

"It isn't me," she consoled, pulling him closer. "I'm right here, baby."

Rick's chin dipped and she lifted her head just a little to peer at his profile. He looked ashamed as he stared at his feet. "You're doing the absolute best you can," Lori whispered, resting her cheek on his shoulder again. "And there isn't one of us who doesn't appreciate it."

Rick's Adam's apple bobbed and he turned his face towards hers, the stubble on his chin rough against her jaw. "Carl asked me to stop leading. He wants me to let Hershel and Daryl take the reigns."

She considered his words. She knew that her answer would do nothing but burden him further, but she also knew that there was truth behind them that couldn't go unspoken. "He's just scared," she finally answered. "They all are."

Closing his eyes, Rick tilted his face, resting his cheek against hers.

"Come inside," she urged, kissing his cheek. Releasing his hand she ran it through his curls and took a step back, her arm threading through his, locking them together. "I need to feed Judith and you guys need to figure out what you're going to do about Merle. We can't keep him locked up forever."

XXXX

Lori eyed the open door to the common room… she was sceptical of Rick's decision to give Merle free run in the prison. Though she wasn't particularly fond of his mannerisms and he hadn't really done anything to her personally, she still questioned what kind of a presence he would have in the group.

She entered the larger room with caution, her eyes flicking between Michonne and Merle. Making a tight turn she hugged the wall, ducking behind the pole to make her way over to Carol. The baby in her arms shifted and she lifted her to her shoulder, pulling the blanket up to drape over her.

"All ready?" Carol asked, lifting a pot of boiling water off the camping stove.

Lori smiled, passing her to go over to the large oval shaped industrial baking pan that they had found in the kitchen. "I am, but I'm not just about her," Lori hummed, laying the baby down on the table on a towel. "Thanks for getting this set up," she accepted the pot of hot water from Carol and tipped it into the make-shift tub, mixing it with the cold water already in there. Using her hand she swirled the water, gauging its temperature. When she was satisfied she turned to her daughter again.

Carol stood by, watching Lori undo the baby's swaddled blanket. "There you are," Lori whispered to the baby, tearing away the disposable diaper and bundling it. Leaving the wad of cotton and synthetic plastic on the table, she slid her arms under Judith and transferred her into the tub, one hand cradling her head.

Judith's face scrunched as she was submerged into water and she began to wail, her back arched. "Shhh," Lori soothed her, picking up the cloth from beside the tub. Wetting it, she washed the baby efficiently.

Carol made a sound and Lori looked up to find her offering the baby a sympathetic look. She lifted her eyes to meet Lori's and her face shifted to an impish smile. "I always hated it when Sophia would cry like that – like I was torturing her or something."

Lori chuckled softly and nodded in agreement, returning her eyes to her daughter.

"Gonna wake the dead," a gruff voice came from behind Carol; Lori looked up to see that Merle had come out of the storage cell.

Lori quirked one brow, unsure of how to take his comment. She wondered if Merle was as good with babies as his brother was – somehow she doubted it. Despite his hard shell, Daryl had a softness inside him: Merle on the other hand seemed to be calcified right through.

He came to the edge of the table and Lori eyed his prosthetic hand… if one could even call it that. She suppressed the urge to scoop the baby up and leave and instead discarded the cloth to cup water to rinse Judith's hair.

"How d'you know she ain't gonna take a shit in there?" Merle asked, lifting one boot up to rest on the bolted seat.

Nope, definitely not as good with babies as his brother.

"You gonna keep talking with that vulgarity around my sweet little girl?" she asked pointedly, easing Judith out of the tub and back onto the towel.

Merle chuckled, giving her sense that he found her idiotic. Grinding her teeth she shook her head. "You know you're putting every single one of our lives at risk by coming here," she retorted, drying the still crying baby off. She worked as quickly as possible, just wanting to get back to the cellblock.

Carol came to her side, silently offering her support as she leaned into her, busying herself with drying up the splashed water.

"That what you think?" Merle scoffed, putting his foot down and straightening up. "You think that had anything to do with me?"

Lori glanced at the blade attached to his hand then back down at her daughter. Picking up the lotion, she quickly massaged it into the baby's skin.

"Your husband stepped on a hornet's nest," he replied.

Lori scoffed, lifting Judith's ankles to slide a fresh diaper underneath her, trying to keep her hands from trembling. "And you had nothing to do with that?" The question was made rhetorical by the sass in her voice and she eased Judith up to her chest, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other supporting her bum.

Lori levelled him with her gaze. "If you're going to stick with us and live here? Take some damn personal responsibility," she muttered, heading back towards her cell.

She was about to tell Carol she would be back in a minute to help clean up when the door suddenly slammed open, startling her. Spinning around, she found Carl coming through at full tilt. "Dad!" he yelled, dashing down the steps. "Andrea's outside!" he blurted, looking around. "Dad!"

The prison sprang into action, Glenn and Daryl suddenly appearing in the room, grabbing weapons. Lori stood in the middle of it watching them rushing around. Glenn sent Daryl, Merle and Michonne out to the yard, and called to Carol to follow him.

Lori followed them toward the overpass, but was stopped short before she could pass through the door by Carol's hand landing on her shoulder.

"You stay inside," Carol ordered, pushing Lori back before grabbing the door handle and pulling it closed with a slam.

Left alone in the cellblock, Lori sighed and looked down at her wailing daughter.

XXXX

Lori waited for the others to come in, her stomach twisted into knots of anxiety. She dressed the baby on the bottom bunk in her cell, guiding her legs into a pair of white tights. The plastic cover of her diaper crinkled as she moved her, keeping her eyes fixed on her sleeping baby's face. Reaching forward she ran her finger over parted pink lips.

She heard commotion and doors slamming. Moving quickly, she grabbed a purple dress from the small collection of baby clothes and pulled it over Judith's head before turning to her feet to dress them in a pair of knitted booties. Voices echoed through the building and she got to her feet, her hand gripping the upper bunk to make it easier. The commotion of the day was taking its toll on her freshly reopened incision and she was starting to get sore enough that she was considering taking something for the pain.

She had enough milk in the cooler to keep Judith going for at least the day, though she wasn't sure how long the drugs would stay in her system.

Picking up Judith and the throw blanket she was laying on, Lori winced, straightening up slowly. She laid the baby girl across her forearm and headed toward the common room, and then paused, considering her daughter. Changing her mind, she went back into her cell and placed Judith in the box in corner. Cringing, she got to her feet again and made her way toward where she could hear Carol's soft voice, her hand pressed to her stomach.

Lori slipped into the room just as Andrea asked about Shane and she winced, glancing over at Rick to see his reaction. He shook his head and shared a look with Daryl before lowering his eyes to the floor.

"And Lori?" Andrea asked, glancing around the room, apparently not seeing her as she stepped past Merle and began to make her way down the stairs. Rick's eyes lifted to meet hers and she offered him a smile that she hoped didn't belie her discomfort. Andrea turned around, her face cracking into a small smile.

When Lori reached the bottom step the blonde woman pulled her into a hug. The sudden movement caught her off guard, jarring her and causing her body to stiffen, bracing for the sudden pain. She hissed involuntarily into Andrea's ear, and grabbed her biceps, pushing her away.

Andrea's face flickered with confusion and her eyes fell to Lori's still puffy belly.

"A girl," Lori announced, rubbing her tender abdomen. She looked the other woman over, unsure of what she was supposed to think about her sudden reappearance in their lives. "I'm glad you're alright." She settled on her comments carefully and patted the woman's shoulder before making her way over to her son.

"We lost T-Dog," Carol piped in solemnly as Lori lowered herself onto a seat, reaching her hand out to her son.

He glanced down at her outstretched hand for a moment before going to her, allowing her to pull him into her side.

"You all live here?" Andrea asked, looking around the room.

"Here and in the cell-block," Glenn answered.

Andrea looked toward the open door, "There? Can I go in?" she took a step in the direction of the door, but was stopped as Rick moved into her way.

"I won't allow that," he retorted, only stopped when he was less than a foot from her.

The blonde woman took a small step back, settling onto one foot. "I'm not an enemy, Rick."

Rick's lip curled, "We had that field," he explained pointing toward the window, "that courtyard; until your boyfriend tore down the fence with a truck and shot us up." His hand moved to rest on his gun as he looked down at her, his face rigid.

Andrea waivered, "He said you fired first," she said, her voice full of disbelief.

"Well, he's lyin'."

"He killed an inmate who'd survived in here," Hershel spoke up, trying to convince her.

Lori watched as she struggled to accept their truth, the way she crossed one hand over her ribs and covered her mouth with the other. She felt for the woman…

"We liked him; he was one of us," Daryl added from his spot on the table.

Andrea's hand curled into the collar of her shirt. "I didn't know anything about that," she answered, shaking her head lightly. "As soon as I found out I came," she turned around, meeting each of their eyes. "I didn't even know you were in Woodbury until after the shootout," she entreated, her voice rising.

"That was days ago," Glenn accused, unwavering.

"I told you I came as soon as I could," Andrea answered, her voice becoming defensive. She looked imploringly between Glenn and Maggie, taking deep breaths, her eyes shining with tears. Suddenly, she turned to Michonne. "What have you told them?" she demanded.

Michonne leaned again the storage cage, her face impassive. "Nothing," she declared.

"I don't get it!" Andrea turned to meet their eyes again. "I left Atlanta with you people and now I'm and odd man out?" she asked incredulously.

"He almost killed Michonne, and he would've killed us," Glenn's eyes widened, his anger and impatience bubbling to the surface.

Andrea stabbed at the air between her and Merle. "With his finger on the trigger! Isn't he the one who kidnapped you? Who beat you?" she questioned, reminding Lori that the woman had been an attorney in her other life. She blew out a puff of air and steepled her hands, covering her nose, rubbing her corners of her eyes. "Look, I cannot excuse or explain what Phillip has done – but I am here trying to bring us together," she dropped her hands to her sides, her eyes finding Rick's again. "We have to work this out!"

"There's nothing to work out," Rick replied. "We're gonna kill him. I don't know how, or when, but we will," he nodded once.

Andrea shook her head, "we can settle this," she insisted. "There is room at Woodbury for all of you!"

Merle smirked, drawing their attention as he spoke up for the first time. "You know better than that.

Andrea sighed, crossing her arms again.

"What makes you think this man wants to negotiate?" Hershel asked, looking over at her. "Did he say that?"

"No," Andrea admitted.

"Then why did you come here?" Rick shifted on his feet.

Andrea breathed out. "Because he's gearing up for war. The people are terrified, they see you as killers. They're training to attack."

"I'll tell you what," Daryl spoke up again. "Next time you see Phillip," the name rolled off his tongue with bitter mockery. "You tell him I'm gonna take his other eye," he promised.

"We've taken too much shit for too long," Glenn said. "We wants a war, he's got one."

Andrea ignored both their comments. "Rick?" she moved towards him. "If you don't sit down and try to work this out… I don't know what's gonna happen, he has a whole town! Look at you, you've lost so much already. You can't stand alone anymore," she turned her back on him and looked to Glenn, and then Lori.

Lori held her eyes for a moment until Andrea was distracted by Rick circling her until they were face to face again. "You want to make this right?" he demanded. "Get us inside."

"No!"

"Then we've got nothing to talk about," Rick started toward the door.

"There are innocent people!" Andrea continued, talking to Rick's back.

Lori watched her husband leave the room in disbelief. Using the table, she pushed herself to her feet, keeping her arm around Carl who helped her up. Without meeting Andrea's eyes she followed her husband out, keeping her son close to her side.

She found Rick pacing the cellblock, his hands clasped behind his head.

"Go check on Judith for me, okay?" she paused, running her thumb over Carl's cheek. The boy nodded, his eyes lingering on his father as he walked away. Once he was out of earshot, she turned back to Rick and held out her hand. "Come here?" she requested.

He turned to her, his face lined with anger, his brown pinched and creased. He looked to her hand, as though considering his options, then approached her, his fingers intertwining with hers.

Lori guided him into a hug, her arms sliding under his to wrap around his back. She held him, and he her for a long time, just breathing until his wound muscles began to uncoil and relax.

"It was my fault that Andrea was left behind," she broke the silence, tilting her head to bury it into his neck, her eyes closed. "That night at the farm, as we were getting into the car. I…" she sighed, too tired to get into the explanation. "It was my fault."

Lori had thought about that night often through the winter and even now. So much had happened and the guilt wore on her like extra weight, pulling her down. Andrea, Shane, Rick, Carl… so many had been hurt because of her actions.

"You didn't say anything," his hand drifted over the curve of her spine, up to cup the back of her head, securing her against him.

You wouldn't listen, she thought, swallowing the words and tucking them away inside her.

XXXX

The baby fussed unhappily as Carol balanced her in one arm and folded laundry with the other. She had taken the baby off Lori's hands while the other woman took some time to spend alone with Rick. Carol had her hands full trying to keep Judith happy while getting her To Do list finished, but she was happy to spend some time alone with the little one.

She loved the feel of Judith's dead-weight as she lay in her arms or across her chest, not to mention that new baby smell. She wished she could just bottle it up and carry it with her all the time.

The baby's emerging personality excited her too, and brought her hope every time she looked into her hazel eyes. She had expected to be reminded of Sophia, and she had expected it to hurt, but instead the baby brought her a sense of peace and joy that she had been missing for a long time.

After the meeting with Andrea she was confused about what to think. On one hand she wanted to trust the other woman – to accept her at face value. On the other hand she was wary of her and the power that this man, Phillip, seemed to have over her. She knew the destruction that could come from being blinded by a man - how he could twist love and make it into something dangerous.

Stepping out onto the upper level walkway she scanned the room. Lori and Rick had taken a seat on the floor under the far window and she smiled at the sight of them, Rick's hand pressed over Lori's abdomen, her head resting on his shoulder. She was glad that they were pulling together again and that they had been given another chance.

Looking down at the baby in her arms she found her sucking on her fist, the sleeve of her dress saturated with drool. A movement caught her eye as Andrea came through the door, strolling past Rick. Carol wondered if she was being cocky, but then caught the look on the other woman's face – she was mesmerized, being drawn in by the bundle in Carol's own arms. Carol knew the feeling.

Maybe Andrea was still their ally after all.

"You can't leave before meeting Little AssKicker," Carol approached the top of the stairs where Andrea was coming up. The nickname lightened the mood and she checked in with Lori for permission. The other woman eyed Andrea's back for a moment, then dropped her head wearily back to Rick's shoulder.

The smile on Andrea's face was infectious as she stepped in close. "Can I hold her?"

"Of course," Carol transferred the baby to the other woman's arms, making sure to cradle her head. "You got her?" she checked, moving her hands to support Andrea's.

"Yeah, I've got her," Andrea's voice was barely a whisper as she held Judith high on her chest. "Oh!" she crooned as Judith complained with a whine about being passed around. "Look at you!"

Carol watched the two of them, her hand stroking the baby's leg comfortingly, reassuring her that she was safe.

"Let me guess," Andrea watched Judith for a moment before looking up. "Daryl named her AssKicker."

Carol grinned, chuckling softly as she confirmed with a nod.

"That's not really her name."

"Judith," Carol supplied, watching the baby settle.

Andrea swayed, her hand lifting to hold the tiny one that the baby was sucking on. "Hi Judith," she soothed, rocking her. "How precious are you?" She kept her attention on the baby for a few moments before stiffening and glancing at Carol, then the couple still seated on the floor.

Lori had closed her eyes and Carol could see the telltale signs of her growing discomfort. She had grown paler as the day wore on and her brow kept creasing each time she moved. Rick leaned in to whisper to her and she nodded slowly in response as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"What happened to her?" Andrea asked, turning back to Carol.

Carol pulled her eyes away from the scene too, meeting Andrea's. "She had a c-section," she explained. "Maggie…" She felt emotional as she thought back to that day. "We almost lost her… we were sure we would. T-Dog died leading me to safety," she continued, offering a smile that she knew was more of a grimace. "That's when I found her," Carol spared another glance at Lori. "She'd already almost bled out by the time I got there… Carl was supposed to-," she let her words drop off.

"Oh my God," Andrea blurted, shaking her head, looking back down at the baby. "And Shane?" she asked.

"Rick killed him," Carol answered, her gaze wavering. "That night we left the farm… that whole Randall thing was a lie," she continued when Andrea shook her head doubtfully. "Shane tried to kill Rick."

"Shane loved Rick," Andrea countered, her voice thick with disbelief.

"Shane loved Lori," Carol corrected.

Andrea stared at the spot over Carol's shoulder, her body stiffening again as she processed the information. "Rick's become cold," she said ponderously, her eyes slowly shifting back to meet Carol's. "Unsteady," she added.

Carol nodded, turning to look at Judith. "He has his reasons," she conceded, tracing the plywood top of her workstation. She flinched inwardly as she thought about their argument that morning. Lori had been right – they needed to support Rick. They needed to be on his side, especially with the threat Woodbury looming over their heads. "The Governor," she blurted, accepting Judith back from Andrea. The baby mewed contentedly as she found her home back in Carol's familiar arms. "You need to do something."

"I am," Andrea insisted.

Carol ploughed onward, voicing the thoughts that had been circling in her mind since their meeting. "You need to sleep with him," she reasoned, glancing around to see if anyone else was listening. "Get him to drop his guard, and when he's sleeping, you can end this."

Andrea averted her eyes and Carol turned to the baby to give the other woman a moment to process her words.

XXXX

The concrete wall behind her was the only thing keeping her up and she leaned heavily against it, her hand finding Carol's forearm. Her friend had been unusually quiet since Andrea's departure, and Lori wondered if it had something to do with their conversation on the perch. Night had fallen over the prison, creating thick shadows around them that made the room feel cold. Rick wanted to keep their lighting to a minimum for security reasons. They'd eaten dinner picnic-style on a blanket on the floor, the immediate vicinity lit by a battery-powered lantern and a few flickering candles.

Footsteps upstairs caught her attention and she looked up to see Rick coming out of Carol's cell, cradling a bundle in his arm - Judith. The baby whined as he descended the stairs and he repositioned her so that she was resting closer to his chest. Lori could see her hands flexing, reaching for him with uncoordinated jerks. The movement made her smile and her heart skip a beat. Carol told her that Andrea had said Rick had gone cold, but watching him snuggling their daughter showed her the contrary; her Rick was still in there. He was just going through a rough patch.

Next to her Beth started singing, her sweet voice warm and filling the room. The young girl glanced over to Carol who finally smiled softly, the corners of her mouth turning up into an impish smile. Rick stopped at the bottom of the stairs, listening to Beth's singing, but his eyes were fixed on hers, dark and unwavering. He released her gaze after a moment to check in on Judith, muttering something so softly that Lori couldn't hear it.

She looked over to Glenn who took a seat next to Maggie on the stairs and smiled. She was glad to see them getting along again. Their young love made her feel a bit nostalgic for when she and Rick had been dating, then newlyweds. It felt like a lifetime ago. She missed how easy it had been when everything had been new and romantic.

She turned her head slowly to investigate the sound of shuffling behind her, finding Merle leaning against the iron-barred door. Lori wondered if it would ever feel normal to have the other Dixon brother back in their group – if he was even capable of fitting in. She thought back to their earlier exchange, his hardened line of questioning while he'd been watching her bathe her daughter. Maybe he'd come around eventually, but until then she'd keep her distance.

Turning back to the group her eyes blurred as a yawn caught her off guard. Without looking over, Carol lifted her arm and slid it around Lori's shoulders, pulling her towards her. Lori leaned into the embrace, her head finding her friend's slim shoulder. She yawned again, this time able to lift her hand in time to cover her mouth. Carol met her eyes and offered her a smile that Lori returned, foggy with sleep that had begun to cloud her thoughts.

Rick, Hershel, and Daryl had started a quiet conversation that she couldn't hear, but she caught Carl's name on her husband's lips. She quickly glanced around the room, realizing that her son had slipped out at some point.

"Did you see where Carl went?" she asked Carol, starting to sit up.

Carol's arm around her side kept her in place. "I'm sure he's fine," she assured softly, turning her attention back to Beth.

Lori settled back into her side reluctantly. Her friend was right – Carl was growing up so quickly. She could trust him to be safe in the prison. Raising her eyes she caught her husband's. His throat tightened as he swallowed, lifting his chin to indicate the stairs. She nodded, bracing her hands against the wall as she began to uncurl her legs, pushing herself to her feet. Carol's hands braced her lower back and one thigh, steadying her.

XXXX

Her husband led her to one of the cells on the upper level, furthest away from the occupied ones. He stopped next to the doorway, allowing her to pass him. Lori looked around the small space, her eyes sweeping the graffiti covered walls that she had scrubbed clean in the first week since arriving at the prison.

Rick followed her in and took a seat on the bottom bunk, Judith sleeping on his shoulder. Lori joined him and reached out to touch the baby's soft cheek, then fixed her blanket, waiting for him to begin.

"I'm going on a run back home," he finally stated, taking a deep breath before continuing to explain. "I left the armoury full at the station – I'm gonna clean it out."

Lori nodded, it made sense that they would need more weapons with the new threats.

"I'm taking Michonne," he said, patting Judith's back. "And Carl."

The second part of his announcement caught her off guard and she felt her eyes widen. "You're kidding me," she found herself blurting out the words. He barely flinched at her words, his eyes settling on the wall before them. "We are supposed to be protecting our children," she whispered more harshly than she intended, barely containing the urge to yell the words. "Not putting them in danger."

"That is exactly what I am trying to do," he snapped, turning to look at her. "We can't do this with empty chambers – Merle is right, that little engagement the other day was a show."

Lori glared at him, motioning shakily for the baby. His palm moved to cradle Judith's head and he leaned forward, easing her into his hands before he carefully passed her over. The tone of his voice, filled with frustration and resentment had her reeling, her heart pounding in her chest. Judith whimpered in her arms and she shushed the baby, pulling her blanket closed around her.

She flinched when he got to his feet and began stalking the length of the cell, his boots falling heavily against the cement floor. Lori watched his movements, scared that her opposition had set him off again – that he would spiral out of her reach… that they would go back to the way things had been all winter. Despite her fears she found herself nodding her consent, her throat a tight fist. "Okay," she agreed. "Whatever you think is best…"

"Don't do that," he growled, pushing his hand through his hair, turning around to meet her eyes. "Don't agree with me when you don't agree with me," he huffed.

Her throat heaved with a tiny sob and she lowered her head to look at Judith. "I don't know what you want me to say – you don't want me to argue but you don't want me to agree…"

"I'm not going anywhere, Lori," his hands landed on her knees as he kneeled down in front of her. "And if I do, I will come back."

Sniffing, she nodded, lifting her hand to swipe at the tears in her eyes. "I can't go back to the way things were, Rick. I can't live like that anymore."

He sighed, sliding one hand around the back of her head and the other to the small of her back, pulling her into a hug. "Carl's ready," he promised. "I'm going to protect our family, Lori."

XXXX

The next morning, she woke to the baby cooing from the corner of the room. Stretching out along the length of her husband she buried her face into his side, her lips finding the curve of his shoulder. Yawning, she slipped her hand low over his abdomen and gave him a light hug before opening her eyes. She was surprised to find that it was still dark out, and that Judith was no longer in her own bed, but in theirs, curled up in the crook of his neck.

Smiling softly Lori wrapped her hand around one tiny foot, and then pressed a kiss to its toes. "Morning," she whispered, resting one hand over his on their daughter's diaper covered bottom.

Rick, whose gaze had been fixed on the bunk above them, lowered his eyes to meet hers. He looked tired, and she hoped that it wasn't the baby keeping him up.

"I could have got her," Lori reminded him gently, tracing his mouth with her fingertips. Then over his cheekbone to his jaw. "You need your rest."

He finally smiled, just barely. "I'm rested," he assured her, easing Judith over to her.

She accepted the baby to her chest, rolling onto her back, watching him slip out of the bed. He immediately began to dress and she frowned. "You're leaving now?"

"Best we get out early," he stated, grabbing his shirt from the top bunk where she'd left a pile of washed clothes. "The sooner we get on the road the sooner we'll get there and be back."

Lori nodded, shifting towards the edge of the bed. She started to get awkwardly to her feet, attempting to juggle the baby in one arm while gripping the top bunk with her other hand. The c-section had done a number on the abdominal muscles, leaving her with almost no core strength to speak of.

Rick frowned and reached out, one hand finding her elbow and the other her lower back. "Here," he muttered, helping her to her feet.

"It's tougher with this little one and no free hands," Lori explained, now on her feet and almost nose to nose with him. Taking advantage of their new position she leaned in to kiss him properly, slipping her fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck. Judith squirmed between them and grunted her displeasure at being sandwiched, but Lori kept her attention on her husband. "You need a shave," she smiled, barely breaking contact.

"It isn't high on my list of priorities," Rick kissed her again, this time chastely, then again more slowly.

Lori hummed, sliding her cheek across his. "Good thing I don't mind the rugged look," she laughed softly, happy to have just a moment of normalcy before the fear and waiting game started up again. Rick's arms held her as closely as possible with the baby between them, and she took a moment to rest her cheek on his shoulder, just feeling his warmth and the contours of his body against hers.

A sound from just outside their cell broke their moment and she opened her eyes to find Michonne standing in the blue early morning shadows. She was already dressed to go, her katana strapped across her back. Lori met the woman's hard coal-like eyes and found herself pulling Rick even closer. "Wardens here," she whispered into his ear, reluctant to let him go.

Rick stepped back, offering her an apologetic smile. "We gotta go," he announced, kissing Judith's forehead.

"I'll get Carl," she offered. "I want to say goodbye."

Rick left her to get the car ready with Michonne and she headed upstairs. She counted the long row of dark cells until she found Carl's. Her son was still asleep on the top bunk and she stepped over the things strewn over his floor, careful not to trip. She came face to face with him and held her breath, not ready to wake him up just yet.

She took a moment to watch him sleep, his face placid and innocent, like when he was still a baby. Reaching up, she pushed his too long hair out of his face, smiling as she revealed the tiny freckles on his cheek and forehead. He stirred and opened his eyes, blinking slowly as though his brain hadn't caught up yet.

"Morning, baby," she greeted him. "Your Daddy's ready to go."

His eyes dilated, adjusting to the low light, and she felt like a spell had been broken. Sitting up he scrubbed his hand over his face and yawned widely. Lori took a step back to let him jump off the bunk, then started picking out something for him to wear.

"Mom, stop touching stuff," he grumbled, picking up a shirt off the ground. "I can dress myself."

Lori nodded, it was true. Though she wished sometimes he would just let her mother him a little bit. "Yeah, yeah," she mussed his hair and headed towards the door. "I'll bet you can feed yourself too – I'll have something ready for you downstairs."

He muttered something unintelligible under his breath before yawning again.

"And Carl?" she paused just outside his doorway. "Kick all your clothes into a pile so I can clean them."

Back downstairs in the common room she settled Judith on a pillow in the industrial baking pan that they'd used to bathe her. The baby looked around the room curiously, her soother bobbing as she sucked on it, her hands splayed across her chest as she sighed.

Lori got to work making peanut butter sandwiches for the road, and heating up some canned beans for breakfast. She added some powdered eggs to water as a treat for the trio and allowed herself to get lost in her thoughts. She tried not to worry too much about Rick and Carl. The town had pretty much emptied out early on, so she doubted there would be too many Walkers. And Michonne seemed to be pretty capable – odd, but capable.

While the others ate she picked at some beans and nursed Judith. She couldn't help but sneak glances at her boys, picking out their features and mannerisms, committing them to memory. She scolded herself, but couldn't seem to help it – one never knew in this world when the last time would be the last time. She sighed heavily at the thought, drawing Rick's eyes to her.

Lori consciously forced a smile, assuring him that she was fine. Reaching out to her he waited until she took his hand, his fingers knotting with hers. Her next smile was a genuine one, though teary. He got up and kept their hands locked as he pushed the rest of his eggs over to her and moved to stand behind her.

His breath was hot against her ear as he leaned over her shoulder. "I love you," he whispered, kissing her cheek.

"I love you too," Lori answered, turning to rest her forehead against his. He released his hold on her hand and touched Judith's forehead before heading for the door.

Carl gave her a quick hug and goodbye too, but took a bit more time with his sister. "Take good care of her, okay?" he requested, looking up to meet Lori's eyes.

"Cross my heart," Lori promised, pulling him in for another hug. "You take good care of yourself and your daddy, okay?"

He nodded, moving to follow Rick out.


	14. Chapter 14

He stopped inches away from the fence, staring into the cloudy eyes of the Walker that clawed ravenously at the chain-link, its fingers curled into arthritic talons, its nails bruised and torn up, rotting at their quicks. It snarled and growled as it reached for him, failing to come close. Daryl looked over to his brother on the other side of the yard, then turned back to the Walker, examining the sundress that hung loosely over its emaciated frame, the straps falling into the hollowed valleys on the side of its should blades.

He realized if he looked close enough he could see that her eyes had been blue – and she had a wedding band dangling loosely from her finger.

"What'ch'u lookin' at, little brother?" Merle appeared at his shoulder, casting a shadow over the Walkers face, deepening the murkiness of her eyes until Daryl couldn't make out their colour anymore. "See somethin' you like?"

Daryl dropped his eyes to her knees, half-annoyed and partly abashed; somehow Merle managed to always make him feel like a piece of shit nothing – just like when he'd been a boy.

"We could bring her in here…" Merle laughed, patting Daryl roughly on the shoulder.

Daryl shrugged him off and took a step closer to the fence, pulling his knife out. The Walker was close enough to the fence that he could pop the blade through the centre of her forehead, and he watched her eyes flicker then freeze over before she dropped into a heap on the ground.

"You ever leave me like that I'll come back'n kill ya twice," his brother muttered, horking then spitting on the ground at the foot of the fence where the Walkers feet had ended up.

Daryl ignored his comment and headed back towards the house, sliding his knife back into his pocket. Merle followed him in and he wanted to tell him to leave him the fuck alone.

Stepping into the common area he found Lori scrubbing a pile of laundry in a filthy tub of water. Sweat glistened on her forehead, dampening her hair and making it stick to her face. As he approached the table she winced and straightened up, arching her back, her hand finding her abdomen. She offered him a wane smile and a curt nod when she spotted him.

"You shouldn't be doin' that shit," he muttered.

Lori's smile tightened and she dropped her hands back into the bucket. "If I don't do it then Carol will, or Beth – we all have to pull our own weight. Besides-," she was cut short as an impatient wail erupted from the other side of the table. Lori turned to look down at the floor and Daryl braced his knuckles on the table to peer over its edge.

He found Judith in her box, staring up at Lori. She howled again, this time tilting her head back to present a set of gums, her eyes scrunched closed.

"Okay," Lori sighed, looking down at her hands. The baby continued to cry and she swiped at her brow with her forearm. "Give mommy a minute…"

Daryl shrugged, pushing back from the table. "I'll get her," he offered, making his way around to the box. "I ain't doin' anything anyway." Reaching into the box he lifted Judith out and got to his feet, settling her into his right arm. It had been a while since he'd held her – not since her birth - and she'd already grown a ton. She felt heavier and fleshier, less flimsy and fragile. He looked up to catch Lori watching him, a tiny smile forming on her lips.

"What?" he snapped defensively – he was sick of her giving him that look. "Don't gotta get all sentimental about it."

Lori held up her hands in surrender, though her smile stayed in place. "I didn't say a thing," she chuckled, getting back to the laundry.

Turning his back on her Daryl huffed and headed to the other side of the room to escape her scrutiny. He headed into Merle's cage and plonked down on the bed, sitting Judith on his lap. She'd stopped crying and he stared into her eyes as she inspected him, her eyes like moss. "This piece 'o shit," he commented, reaching out to pick up the soother attached to her sleeper.

A figure filled the doorway and he looked up to find Merle leaning against the metal frame. "Little young for ya but I guess she's better than your other love interest out there," he commented, stepping into the cage.

Daryl ignored him and turned his attention back to Judith, his fingers smoothing a wisp of hair off her forehead.

"You think about her when you hold her or somethin'?" Merle asked, sitting on the table in the corner. "Sk-," he began.

Daryl's eyes shot to his brother. "Don't," he barked. "It doesn't mean nothin'. I just don't mind takin' her sometimes when there isn't anyone else to do it. That's all it is."

Merle scoffed, sliding his knife prosthetic off. "Give her here," he motioned with his hand. Daryl eyed his stump for a moment, then looked up to meet his eyes, his own hands curling around Judith's sides. Conceding, he got to his feet and carefully passed Judith over to Merle, his hands lingering on her head and belly. He wasn't sure how Lori would feel about him letting Merle hold the baby. He glanced over his shoulder to find her absorbed in her task.

"Bigger than she was," Merle assessed the baby in his arms. "Bit fatter too."

Daryl leaned against the other side of the cage, keeping his eyes on his feet. It was true – Georgia Lyn had been small enough to almost fit in his cupped hands, but she'd come early so she didn't breathe right.

"Remember when she was born? That little pyjama thing I got her? What'd it say again?" Merle looked up from the baby in his arms, his face looked thoughtful for a second before splitting into a grin. "I'm an asshole-," he recalled, chuckling.

Daryl crossed his arms over his chest. "Got it from my dad," he finished, his own mouth twisting into a smile of its own accord. "Bernie was pissed," he scuffed the floor with his toe.

Merle sobered a little, looking back to Judith. "Yeah, no loss – dumb bitch," he sucked his teeth and motioned with his chin.

Daryl stepped forward and took the baby back from him and rested her against his chest, his hand splaying across her back to keep her in place. Pushing off the wall he slipped out of the cage, leaving Merle to put his knife back on. He froze when he saw Lori watching him intently. Ducking his head he headed in her direction, waiting for her to lace into him about letting his brother hold the baby. Instead she offered him a small nod and went back to her work.

"Thanks for looking out for her," Lori reached out to rest her hand on his shoulder lightly, the water on her hands soaking into his shirt.

"Messin' my shirt up," he muttered, stiff under her touch.

Shaking her head, she retreated and moved to pick up the laundry with a soft oof.

Daryl quickly rose from his crouched position and took the basket off her. "Best leave it to Carol and Beth for now," he suggested, heading towards the perch where Carol usually hung their clothes. Over his shoulder Lori bent down to retrieve Judith before following him.

XXXX

The night air was surprisingly cool for summer, and she settled against the chain-link fence that closed in the overpass, her eyes drifting closed. Most of the group had turned in for the night, but she found herself unable to sleep alone in her cell. Once the baby had started to fuss she decided to step outside for a bit, figuring some fresh air would do them both some good.

Lori hated sleepless nights, because they often came hand-in-hand with an overactive mind. With Judith fussing against her shoulder, she allowed her thoughts to drift to all the people she had lost: her mother, father, brother, friends. Usually when she took a moment to think about them she was filled with immeasurable grief and guilt because she didn't think about them often at all. Everything had come apart so quickly that she felt like she was still on the run, like she hadn't had a chance to mourn them all.

Looking down at her daughter she knew that her mom would have loved to have a new baby in their little family, especially a granddaughter. Her brother had had twin sons of his own with his ex-wife – Lori wondered if they were still alive out there somewhere. She knew it was a long shot but the alternative seemed almost crippling some days.

"Shhh," Lori whispered, smoothing the back of Judith's head. The baby cooed then let out a long sigh, her body melting into her mother's shoulder as she fell asleep. "I'm envious," Lori chuckled, resting her cheek against her daughter's ear.

The sound of an engine cut through the night and she carefully got to her feet. The guard tower door squeaked and Glenn appeared into the yard, his gun on his shoulder to approach the gate. She made her way inside to find Daryl jogging down the steps, his cheek creased by the fabric on his pillow. The man was an unbelievably light sleeper, she thought, following him to the door that would lead them out to the yard. As she started to follow him down the steps he put his arm out to block her.

Lori started to protest but was stopped by the look he sent her way. Sighing, she nodded and leaned against the doorframe, shifting Judith to cradle her in her arms instead. The baby turned into her chest, her hands smothering her pacifier, holding it in place. She could hear the gate sliding open and tires rolling over the cement, and she craned her neck to try to see around the side of the wall. When car doors opened then closed she figured it would be safe enough and she descended the stairs.

She was just turning the corner when Carl stepped into her path. "No, mom, don't look yet," he protested, pushing her towards the stairs again.

His hands landed on her biceps and she turned to avoid having to walk backwards with the baby. "Okay," she agreed lightly, stopping once they reached the other side of the wall. "Let me see you," she demanded softly, reaching out to take his chin. "You alright?" Lori asked, pushing his hair out of his eyes to inspect him.

He pulled his face back and nodded, "Yes, mom," he groaned, swatting her hand away. Stepping back he peered around the corner of the building, then motioned for her to follow him. As they approached the vehicle she found Rick and Daryl unloading something from the hatchback trunk of the car, a large thin box. She lifted one eyebrow as she tried out make out what it was in the dark.

Carl looked at her expectantly and she stepped around to Rick's side to see the image on the wide part of the box: a playpen. "Thank you," she turned to Carl first, pulling him into her side. She leaned down, ignoring the pain it caused her incision, and pressed a kiss to her son's head.

"I think she'll like it," he said decidedly. "Don't you?"

Lori agreed with a hum and pressed a kiss to his forehead before releasing him. "Was this your idea?" she asked him.

Carl moved to start dragging the box inside. "Yeah, cause she is getting too big for her box now," he explained.

Glenn and Daryl had already started towards the guard's tower, so Michonne stepped in to help Carl with the box. The woman wordlessly lifted it to her chest and nodded for Carl to go ahead. Her son looked for a moment, his expression stunned at her strength, then turned and started for the door.

Alone with her husband Lori's eyes brushed over the arsenal in the car, before she lowered herself onto the bumper. Rick took a seat beside her and he watched Judith sleeping for a few moments before finally addressing her. "There was a fire," he reported, looking up to meet her eyes. "Couple of blocks turned to ash… our place too."

Lori blinked, listening to his news. She felt the loss first – their home was gone. The revelation brought with it a punch of sadness and she turned to look out towards the field.

"Lori," Rick said her name softly, drawing her attention back to him.

She met his eyes again and saw the apology in them. The emotion there caught her off guard and she switched gears. "Baby, it isn't your fault," she insisted, moving closer to him. She caught his hand in hers and squeezed his fingers. "It doesn't matter. It's just a house… this, us being together is home."

Rick lowered his chin to rest it against his chest wearily. "That man, the one I told you about before - Morgan – he was there, Lori. His son died, he's lost it, everything… his mind," he swallowed. "I wanted to take you all back home."

Lori felt her brow crease as she tried to follow what he was telling her. "Rick," releasing his hand she skated hers over his face and settled her palm onto his jaw. Stroking his cheek with her thumb she leaned in to kiss him. "We're all okay," she assured him, her lips still touching the corner of his mouth.

"What if I can't keep you safe?" he asked, lowering his face again. "I can't ever lose you… or Carl," with trembling fingers he touched their daughters forehead. "Judith."

Lori wanted to promise him that he wouldn't, but she knew that it was a promise that she couldn't keep – the world felt like it had become a stage with a trap door, and every time she blinked something else had dropped away into the unknown. Instead of speaking she took his hand again and tugged on him to lead him inside. He glanced back at the car uncertainly. "Leave it," she nodded to the tower where she knew Daryl and Glenn were watching. They'd do whatever needed to be done with the weapons. "You've done enough for today."

Inside the common area she found Carl already pulling the pieces of the travel crib out of the box. On the ground beside him Lori spotted his knife and shivered. She hadn't seen it since Carl had passed it to Maggie to – Lori tried to push the memory out of her brain. She turned her attention back to her son who was inspecting two lengths of pipe.

"Leave it until tomorrow, Love," she instructed, leaning into Rick's side. His arm slipped around her shoulder and she smiled at the familiar feeling of the way her hip fit against his. When Carl began to protest she cut him off. "You'll be able to see the instructions better with some light in here," she reasoned.

Carl scoffed, "I don't need instructions. I can figure it out by myself."

Lori chuckled, "You really are becoming a man."

Rick grunted at her words. "Head in now," he ordered Carl, guiding her towards the cell. "Judith can take another night in her box."

"Okay," Carl huffed, abandoning the poles on the ground with a loud clang. Lori winced at the sound but carried on into the cellblock, looking forward to getting some sleep, curled up with her husband where she belonged.

XXXX

Glenn leaned against the window of the guard tower, crossing his arms over his chest. Letting his eyes close he rested his forehead against the glass and yawned. He knew that he didn't necessarily have to be on watch now that Rick was back, but he couldn't bring himself to go back inside. The awkwardness between himself and Maggie was almost insufferable. It was like she didn't want him to be around her at all anymore.

Opening his eyes again he watched Daryl and Michonne empty the trunk of the car. Rick had come through with the supplies he had brought back. Now they just needed an army the size of the Governor's and maybe they would be able to win against him.

The door at the bottom of the tower squeaked and he frowned seeing that Michonne and Daryl were still by the car. He heard feet on the steps and he slid off the control panel to investigate the sound. Maggie appeared out of the inky shadows, her hair messed from sleep. She seemed to catch his eyes inspecting the tangle on the side of her hair and she offered him a small smile, reaching out to smooth the strands.

"Let me," he reached out to help, then froze as she flinched. Her reaction was subtle, barely beyond a twitch of her eyes, but it felt as though she had screamed at him again to go away. His rejected hand hovered uselessly before he dropped it to his side.

Maggie's eyes darted to the floor and he sighed, turning his back on her to go back to the window. She joined him a couple of seconds later and stood at his shoulder, her eyes fixed out on the yard.

His jaw ached from being clenched like a vice and he had to work hard to control his breathing, like his body had forgotten to do it automatically. He wanted to be angry at her, but he was mostly confused – she was always so confusing. "It's like you're blaming me," his voice was calm despite his roiling emotions.

Maggie's eyes widened and she crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't blame you, Glenn," she finally said after a length of time that seemed to stretch out forever. "I blame him."

"Doesn't feel like that." His utterance came out more like a question as he aped her posture, his own arms crossing in front of him. He knew he was being unfair, but she wasn't the only one who'd gone through hell and it wasn't fair that she was punishing him and closing him out. He didn't mind shouldering both their burden but it was like she was resting it on his shoulders but not letting it go and he couldn't take her pulling on him anymore.

She turned around to face him, her eyes flickering between his face and the floor. "You think this is easy for me? I want things to be normal… more than anything," her voice was teary as she spoke.

"You're the one in the driver's seat," he fired back, stalking across the room so that he wouldn't have to look at her not looking at him. "And it's like you have us pointed at a brick wall." Glenn pulled his hat off and bunched it up in his hands so that he would have something to do with them.

"That isn't fair," she cleared her throat.

He wanted to laugh. "Fair?" he spat the word like it was bitter. "What is fair, Maggie? Look around you!" he turned to face her again and watched her sink into the console, her face turned down to the floor. "You know what isn't fair? You won't talk to me, you won't even look at me!"

He wished he hadn't made the accusation, because when her eyes finally lifted to meet his they were veiled with tears. In the dark he could see the fine trembling of her shoulders and she shook her head slowly, the movement controlled. Glenn felt his resolve soften and then melt. "Come," he instructed softly, opening his arms. "Please, Maggie."

She came to him in one smooth movement and wound her arms around him, her face finding his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she whispered, sniffing.

"No, Maggie," he held her solidly to him, feeling guilty for nagging at her and pushing her to tears. He wasn't supposed to make her cry, he was supposed to keep her safe. He felt like he'd failed her again. "You don't have anything to be sorry for."

She nodded against him but otherwise remained perfectly still. "I just need some time, okay?"

Kissing her forehead he nodded. "I can do that," he promised.

XXXX

"Mom?" Carl asked, his head shifting in her periphery as he turned to look at her.

Lori acknowledged him with a soft hum, pulling her eyes away from her chest where she was nursing and apparently ravenous Judith. The baby had been eating steadily for more than half-an-hour according to the wrist watch on the table before her. "What is it?"

"Do you think Dad is okay?" her son asked, turning back to his oatmeal, his face a veil of indifference that she knew was only a mask hiding his anxiety. "I mean…" he paused, taking a breath. "As much as he's kind of an assh-," he stiffened, cringing before backpedalling. "I mean, kind of a jerk, maybe he should have taken Merle."

Lori bit back her scolding about his choice of words and reached out to smooth the back of his slick hair, deciding that he needed a thorough bath. "I'm sure your Dad will be just fine with Daryl and Hershel; he knows what he's doing."

Carl nodded, lifting one shoulder then dropping it as he slumped further over his bowl.

Lori frowned, watching him for second before turning her attention back to Judith who had unlatched and settled back into the crook of her arm contentedly. Adjusting her shirt first, Lori lifted the baby to her shoulder and patted her back before turning her attention to her own uneaten breakfast. The oatmeal had developed a skin as it cooled and she stared at the unappetizing meal, considering if she was even up for eating it at all. Between her nerves over Rick's meeting with the Governor and her general lack of appetite after Judith's birth, it felt like a chore to even pick up her spoon.

"You have to eat it," Carl told her, picking up his own now-empty bowl and getting up from the table to take it over to the dish bin. "Or else Judith won't get good milk."

Lori gaped at his retreating back for a moment, surprised that he he'd even considered her milk supply. Her surprise was short-lived and quickly turned to chagrin; he was growing up so quickly. It warmed her to see how easily he had taken on the role of being an older brother and caring for his sister and the group. "Yes, sir," she finally answered when she gathered her voice.

Across the room Carl dropped his washed bowl onto the drying rack and shuffled back over to her, his arms outstretched. She transferred the baby over to him, offering him a smile to show her gratitude. "Thanks, love. Remember to burp her."

Her son rolled his eyes. "I know, Mom," he groaned, heading for the cells.

XXXXX

Lori ate most of her breakfast, though it took her most of the morning to get it down. She watched as the others began to fill the room, sorting through the supplies that Rick had brought back with him from King County the night before. Glenn had taken on the roll of leader in Rick's absence, organizing everyone with swift commands. She watched the man with a sense of awe at how much he had changed since she had first met him the year before.

Back then he'd come into the group barely an adolescent, wearing a band shirt of some kind and converse, his backpack containing a few t-shirts, his iphone, and a Gameboy. He'd been sweet and motivated to help – that much hadn't changed. Though he'd hardened, especially in the last few days, she could still see his soft heart and determination to make sure that everyone had what they needed.

Getting up she cleared the table for the group to have another surface to lay everything out on. The dish water was cold when she slipped her hands into it to feel around for anything that might have been left unwashed. When she found the basin empty, she squeezed more soap into it and began working through the dishes that had piled up on the side since the day before, leaving the others to figure out their defence strategy.

It wasn't that she wasn't interested in the plan and how she might contribute, but she knew that at the end of the day, for all their work, the others were going to need to eat and have a place to rest. She could take care of that part.

She looked up at the sound of Merle's voice and bit back the urge to roll her eyes. The man really was a piece of work. He'd been there less than a week and already she had grown weary of his constant attempts to undermine Rick's decisions, his pot stirring, and his rough assertions that he knew better than anyone else.

"My dad can take care of himself," Carl spoke up indignantly, drawing Lori's attention back to the group. She looked up to find that her son had returned from his task and she narrowed her eyes at Merle, silently challenging him to take one more step out of line.

The older Dixon didn't hesitate as he ignored her boy and continued to debate with Glenn. "And they will," he finished before his eyes flicked to address Carl. "Sorry, son, but your dad's head could be on a pike real soon," Merle lifted his chin and Lori's eyes flicked to her son who was making his way out of the room.

Blood boiling Lori quickly set the dishes down into the water and reached for the towel to dry her hands, already making her way around the table towards the cage where Merle leaned against the doorway. She was stopped by Maggie's level voice warning the man, "Don't say that to him."

Still ticking with anger Lori clenched her teeth and changed her course to head for the door where Carl had gone. Merle Dixon wasn't worth a single breath.

XXXX

Michonne stepped away from Merle and headed toward the back exit that would take her to the third guard tower. She'd decided that she would take watch that night, eager to get away from everyone else and spend some time on her own. She hoped Rick wouldn't have any objections about her plan when he got back –she'd have to do whatever he wanted if she wanted to stay with the group.

She knew that they still didn't trust her and she was determined to whatever it took to change that. Tossing her bag down at the foot of the stairs, she headed into one of the unoccupied cells to take a mattress. She stopped when she heard a gasp and soft whimper, and took the few steps that took her to the next cell. She kept her distance, peering through the gap in the sheet that had been hung up to create some privacy.

When the other woman hissed, Michonne cleared her throat. "You okay?" she asked, turning her back to lean against the wall beside the door way. "You need help or somethin'?"

Lori seemed to hesitate before answering. "Just for a minute," she admitted, her voice distant and unsure. Michonne had known from the second that she'd met the other woman that she was warm, but fiercely protective of her children and that that would drive her to but up almost insurmountable barriers. As Michonne entered the small cell Lori's eyes cast nervously towards the playpen that barely fit between the wall and the head of the bunk.

"I'm tryin' to get these sheets on the mattress," Lori explained, holding up the corner closest to herself. "I can't bend over to get the back corner," she admitted with a nervous laugh, almost self conscious.

Michonne eyed her for a moment, still standing in the periphery of the room. The other woman looked like hell, but having a newborn could do that to a person without even having survived an emergency c-section performed without any anaesthetic and by an amateur surgeon at that. There was something else there besides being in pain though, an heir of insincerity that the other woman didn't seem to have with the others in the group.

"Or not," Lori's green eyes swept over her before she turned back to the bed, worrying the sheets between her fingers.

Realizing that she'd been considering the other woman for too long, Michonne moved forward and took the sheets off her. "Here," she stepped into the Lori's space cautiously and slowly enough that she would be able to move to accommodate her. Leaning over the bed she lifted the mattress to put the elastic around its corner. From her vantage point she glanced into the crib where the newborn girl was sleeping. "Carl's a good kid," she offered to break the awkward silence. "Courageous and smart."

Lori hummed in agreement, picking up the pillows that she'd balanced on the edge of the crib. "Wish I could say he got that from me," the corner of her mouth twitched upwards. "But he's all Rick."

Michonne considered Lori's words as she moved to do the last corner at the foot of the bed. "You seem pretty brave yourself after what you've been through," she countered, ducking to clear the top bunk as she stood up.

"Oh, I was just there," Lori dismissed the compliment with a light wrinkling of her nose as took a seat on the mattress, working a pillow into a case. She kept her focus on her task for a few seconds.

Nodding, Michonne glanced around the cell one more time before turning to leave. "Gotta be hard having two kids in this world and feelin' like you can't protect them," she commented, drawing the curtain back to make her exit. "I want you to know Carl's a good kid… Between the two of us and everyone else standin' in the way, I think it would be damn near impossible to get near him."

She was just pulling the curtain back into place when Lori lifted her eyes.

"Thanks you," she whispered, her mask falling away to expose a vulnerability that she hadn't allowed Michonne to see before. "I hope you're right."

XXXXX

Lori listened to the sound of water trickling in the cage where she'd set up a basin of hot water for Carl to wash. He'd argued with her every step of the way until she'd shoved him into the small room that she'd sealed off with sheets, hiding everything except his ankles and feet.

"Water's practically ice," he muttered, splashing more water on the floor.

Lori glanced down to watch the small stream trickling into the drain not far from the cage. "Make sure you get behind your ears," she reminded him. "They're startin' to smell worse than your feet."

He grumbled again before he reached his hand out between the sheets, demanding, "Clothes."

Setting down her sewing, Lori picked up his boxers and t-shirt and made her way over to him, taking a moment to inspect between his fingers and under his nails before handing him the clothes. "You're going to be grateful tonight when you're clean as you crawl into fresh sheets," informed him, heading back to her work station. Sitting down, she picked up his pants and began working the needle though the fabric again.

"Yeah, well, I would be more grateful if we had a real shower." The curtain pulled back to reveal her son, his hair dripping wet, soaking his t-shirt.

Sighing, Lori motioned for him to come closer. "We all would," she quipped, taking his towel from his hands to dry his hair. "Could use a cut too."

"No way," he argued, stepping back from her, holding his hands up. Before she could stop him he headed for the cellblock leaving a trail of wet footprints behind him. As he jogged through the doorway he passed Rick who quickly sidestepped the boy to avoid being jackknifed.

Her husband looked beat, but he offered her a teasing smile as he walked towards her. "Torturing him again with bathing?" he asked, tossing his towel down on the table beside her as he leaned into press a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"I try to do it at least once a month," she sighed, glancing down at the terry-cloth. "You up next?" When he nodded she got to her feet, bracing her hands on the table before her. She hadn't expected him to want a bath after the day he'd had – he'd been distant and out of sorts since returning from his meeting with the Governor. She supposed the idea of going to war was enough to put anyone off.

Picking up the bucket she bit into her lower lip as her incision pulled. Tilting the basin over, she poured the murky contents onto the floor, cringing at the brownish tint, like pond water. She was glad that she had forced Carl to wash, even if it meant he was going to be short with her for the rest of the night.

Rick took the basin from her as she exited the cell and she led him over to where the previously boiled water was still steaming. She didn't argue when he poured it himself, glad that at least one of the males her in family could take care of themselves. Lori followed him back to the cage to make sure he had everything then turned to leave, but was stopped by his hand closing around her wrist. "Stay," he requested, pulling her hand up to press a kiss to her knuckles.

Lori's brow knitted as she watched his expression – something was troubling him, more than just his announcement. "Baby, what is it?" she asked, lifting her hand to rest it against his cheek. When he lowered his eyes, a direct refusal to answer the question, she was torn about whether to press him or not. She decided to let it go for now – they could talk later when he'd had a chance to process his thoughts more.

Dropped her hands to the hem of his brown shirt, she worked her way up, undoing the buttons before she pushed the clothing back off his shoulders. Next his undershirt lifted over his head, and then she left him to get his pants while she lathered up the facecloth, taking a seat on the bench. He kneeled down before her, his head bent down as though praying, and she frowned. Rick barely reacted when she poured water over his hair to dampen his curls before she began to work the shampoo through them.

"Everything's going to be okay," she promised, lifting his chin to force him to look at her. "I promise."


End file.
